A Twist of Fate
by No pen names left
Summary: Kate's attempt to annihilate the Hales failed due to the timely intervention of her brother. Pack and lone hunter formed an uneasy truce which has lasted until blood once again is spilled in the woods of Beacon Hills. Stiles survives his attack and begins his transformation into a young, and untrained wolf. Where will this new path lead him and what role will Derek play?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Come on Scott. Hurry up. Stiles rushed ahead of his friend pushing past the thicker underbrush that lined the preserve's pathway and working his way deeper into the forest. They only found enough pieces for one body.

So what makes you think there is another body out here?

They weren't the pieces for the same body. Two different bodies so therefore there has to be more parts of bodies out here. We're going to find them.

Scott dodged the branch that Stiles let swing backwards but was hit by the second and then the third. "Hey watch it!"

Stiles' mumbled sorry was muffled has he dropped to the ground. "Shit, my dad's out here." The lights from the police search could be seen at the top of a small rise in the forest. Without needing to discuss it both boys moved as one further down the slope and then dashed off the opposite direction of the police force.

"So what happens if we find the bodies?"

"We tell my Dad."

"And then you will be grounded for the rest of your life for breaking curfew."

"Huh? I hadn't thought of that actually."

"What if the killer is still out here?"

"Hmmmm. You know, that never crossed my mind."

"Remind me why I let you talk me into things like this?"

"'Cause I'm awesome, obviously." Stiles had turned to walk backwards, smiling at his friend when he tripped and fell backwards onto the leave covered floor. "Watch it Scott there's a….Holy Shit!" Sightless eyes stared back at Stiles, his mouth frozen in a soundless scream by death.

"Stiles? Are you okay?" Scott jogged forward the last few steps until he was forced to stop, leaning against a tree and wheezing as he pulled out his inhaler. "What is it?"

"I found a body."

Coming closer Scott leaned over to get a better look. "Shit, Stiles," he whispered. "We know him."

"Yeah. It's one of the guys from last night."

The past week had been rough on both of them. Stiles had built up a fairly strong skin against Lydia's refusal to acknowledge his existence but when Scott had fallen head over heels in love with the new girl, who then instantly became Lydia's best friend he couldn't help him build up the immunity to love's cruel cousin heartache fast enough. So he did what any good friend would do. Stiles took him out to get him drunk.

"_They say it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all and as far as I'm concerned that's the fucking Rolls Royce of truth."_

"_What?" Scott rolled over and looked through bleary eyes at Stiles. _

"_Dude, you just met Alison. You can't be in anywhere near the pain that I'm in over Lydia. She's been the love of my life since third grade. You just met Alison Tuesday. At best your heart is just slightly cracked."_

"_She's never even going to look at me again. It was going so well."_

"_Yeah, and then you dumped your lunch tray on her white blouse. Don't worry she'll look at you, she'll look to see where you are and then avoid that place like the plague."_

"_Shut up Stiles, you're not helping."_

"_And that's what the Jack is for." Taking another long sip Stiles passed the half empty bottle to his weaving friend. The evening sky was clear and the tipsy boys leaned heavily against the half buried boulder as they drowned their collective sorrows in the bottom of the bottle._

"_Well what do we have here? Some little boys playing grown up. That's not a slushy boy. You need to leave the drinking to real men." Two men stepped into the clearing and loomed over Stiles and Scott. Their smiles were cruel as they reached down to pull the boys to their feet._

_The larger man dusted off Stiles' red hoodie and straightened his shirt. He took the bottle from Stiles' hand before shoving him violently back. _

"_Give us the bottle back," Scott growled but the men laughed and pushed Scott back and forth between them before shoving him down to the ground next to Stiles. _

"_I think it's past your curfew boys." Snorting at their own brand of humor the two men passed the bottle between them as they headed deeper into the woods. _

"Shit Stiles. That could have been _**US**_." Scott stared wide eyed at the body. "Where's the rest of him?"

"At the morgue. I told you they found parts. I wonder where the other guy is." Stiles moved off to look just as Scott reached over and pulled him back.

"Are you crazy? The person who did this could still be out here. We need to tell your dad and get out of here. I actually like breathing and I am planning on kissing Allison before I die."

"Scott, you don't cut people into halves, drag their bodies out into the woods, and then stick around. The nut case that did this is miles away by now. You would think that finding a part of a dead body could pull your attention away from Allison for just a few minutes." Stiles' planned taunt about Scott's shallow goal in his life was cut short by a long howl from deep in the woods.

"What was that? Crap, I think that was a wolf?" Scott took another puff of his inhaler, fumbling it as he tried to put in back into his pocket and dropping it to the ground. Twisting, he turned rapidly as another howl cut through the night air. "That's definitely a wolf."

"Scott there haven't been wolves in this part of the country for like sixty years." Pushing his hands into his hoodie pockets Stiles tried to remain calm. He watched as Scott's eyes darted across the forest looking for signs of danger.

"So what was that?" Taking a deep breathe to regain his composer Scott glanced down to look for his dropped inhaler.

"Constipated coyote? Love sick poodle?" Stiles joked as he pulled out his phone to help Scott look. A third howl, deeper and closer, sent both boys scrambling to their feet, inhaler forgotten in the leaves.

"Let's not take any chances." Walking quickly back the way they came they boys kept looking behind them. Pushing his asthmatic friend ahead of him Stile glanced over his shoulder to see a pair of red glowing eyes moving through the trees. "Shit, did you see that?"

"What?" Scott gasped the word, each new breath becoming more of a struggle for him.

"Eyes, Scott, there was a pair of fucking red eyes over there."

Reaching over Scott lightly hit Stiles on the shoulder. He wanted to punch him but was becoming weaker with each shallow breath he managed to get into his lungs. "Stop playing. This is serious. I need to get my other inhaler."

A crash to their left had both boys jumping and stumbling backwards. Grabbing Scott by his arm, Stiles took off at a run toward his jeep. The sound of branches being trampled behind them pushes him to run faster dragging his sagging friend with him.

"Here." Stiles shoved his keys into Scott's hand. "Keep going. My jeep will make it this far in. Get the jeep, bring it here and I will…"

"What? Fight off some mangy wolf by yourself?"

Picking up a large branch from the forest floor Stiles turned and bared his teeth at his friend. "I'm sure it's just the poodle. Now hurry."

Mouth working to find the words to argue with Stiles, Scott fled heading for the jeep as fast as he could go between painful gasps for air. Behind him Stiles yelled in challenge, "The sheriff is my father, you really don't want to fuck with me."

Red eyes peered straight at Stiles, too high to be a normal…well a normal anything. Stiles gulped and took a threatening step as he swung his branch. The rumbled gave him a seconds warning before a huge ebony shape lunged out of the woods and directly at him.

The branch was knocked out of his hands as Stiles was sent flying, landing shoulder first, sliding through the leaves and twigs. He tried to twist onto his back just as something latched onto his hips and pulled him back. Stiles couldn't stop the scream that poured from his lips as powerful jaws bit deep into the flesh below his ribs. Kicking and flailing Stile fought back with everything he had in him. Managing to roll on his back he could make out drooling jaws and eerie red eyes before a wild punch landed a solid blow against the creature's muzzle.

The thick beads of his meditation bracelet caught the edge of the fang filled lip and Stiles thought he smelled ozone for a brief moment before the monster reared back with a pain filled scream.

Not wasting a moment of his chance, Stiles scrambled to his feet and ran toward the road. He struggled to remain on his feet tripping over feet that seemed two sizes too big, crawling a few steps on his hands and feet until he could regain his balance before jerking to a halt in front of the blazing lights of his jeep.

Scott pushed the passenger side door open and yelled, "Get in."

Stumbling the last few feet Stiles flung himself into the jeep, slamming the door and screaming "drive, drive, drive" as Scott peeled away sending a flurry of leaves and dirt into the air. Braising himself against the dashboard, Stiles notices how much blood is covering his hand.

"What happened" Scott cried as he pulled the jeep over to the side of the road to get a better look. Stiles pulled up his shirt to reveal a gapping double wound, an enormous bite that covered his side from his bottom rib to his hip. "What the hell did that?"

"A wolf bit me." Stiles could hear his voice rising with shock and panic.

"You said there were no wolves around here."

Stiles holds out his hand and looks at the blood that seems to glisten in the light of the full moon. "I guess the wolf missed the memo."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Go, go, go!" Stiles yelled as Scott put the jeep into reverse wheel turning wildly as he backed blindly down the center of the small road. "Lights, Scott, damn it turn on the head lights!" It came to no surprise to Stiles that instead of turning on the headlights his friend hit the brakes, throwing Stiles backwards against his seat.

"Where the hell did you learn how to drive?" Stiles yelped as he watched Scott crank the wheel almost all the way around before hitting the gas causing the jeep to spin, the sound of everything in the back sliding across the metal floor as well as Stiles' gasp of pain as he ended up inches from sitting on Scott's lap filling the air.

Scott managed to clip not only a cement parking divider, but a no smoking sign, and sent the jeep into a two wheeled turn as he drove out of the parking lot. The trees were a blur of ghostly figures flashing by, wooden fingers reaching out briefly as they were temporary brought to life by the flash of the head lights. Either that or he had just wondered into a Tim Burton movie Stiles thought. Stiles' frantic panting settled into a more normal rhythm as they neared the main road.

"Pull over."

"What? Why?" Scott looked at Stiles in shock, reaching out to check the bloody fabric of the torn shirt. "This is not the time to be stopping on the side of the road. We need to get you looked at."

"Yeah, the way you're driving the only way someone's gonna be looking at me is when they pry my lifeless body out of the tangled remains of my jeep. You are not driving my jeep. How did you manage to pass your driver's test? You are a freaking maniac on the road. Do you have any homicidal tendencies that you haven't told me about? God, no wonder your mom doesn't let you drive anywhere."

"Shut up," Scott huffed, eyes still locked on the blood as Stiles let out an alarmed "Shit!" The park road was ending, the ninety degree turn onto the main road just a few feet ahead of the barreling jeep.

Stiles made a wild grab for the 'oh shit' bar as Scott swerved onto the main road almost clipping welcome sign before over compensating and bouncing across the two lane road.

"Damn, Scott, be careful with her." The words had barely left his mouth when Scott overshot the next turn and ran the tires along the edge of the asphalt. The back tire gave out with a muffled pop followed by the flopping of rubber. "No, no, no," whimpered Stiles as Scott pulled the jeep over to the side of the road. "My baby, you killed my baby."

"Don't be such a drama queen. It's just a flat tire. I can change it in no time." With a soothing smile and a quick pat on the shoulder, Scott hopped out of the jeep. "Stay in here," he ordered before shutting the door with a little more force than Stiles was happy with his baby being subjected too.

Closing his eyes Stiles let his head drop back. Images of the fight in the forest flicker flashed behind his lids. The skin around the bite wound started to itch and pull and Stiles pressed his elbow into his side in an attempt to ease his discomfort shifting back and forth in his seat.

(******************************************************)

Outside the car Scott ratcheted the jack a couple of times before it slipped from under the jeep sending the jeep bouncing down onto three tires while Stiles clutched his side. Rolling his eyes Stiles watched in the rearview mirror as Scott jacked the jeep up again only to have the jack slip after the fourth crank to come bouncing down again. "My best friend is a fucking moron."

Stiles was out of the car before Scott even had time replace the fallen jack checking for damage to his precious blue jeep. Except for the flat tire the jeep seemed in good shape.

"Watch it. Do you even know how to change a tire?" Scott shrugged his shoulders and set the jack back up. Stiles watched as Scott fumbled to place the iron into the jack for a few minutes before stepping in to help. "Have you ever changed a tire? Move over."

Within minutes Stiles had the jeep hoisted up. "You need to let me do the rest. I'm surprised your side isn't hurting more."

As if mentioning it reminded his body it was wounded, Stiles side gave a twitch. His side felt tingly as if a low level of electricity was being constantly run through him. Without thinking he rubbed the bite. Instead of the heated skin and sticky wetness he expected, his fingers encountered a thin raised tear on his side. Pulling his shirt up he examined the wound. "Wasn't this bigger? This was totally a huge bite." Stiles wiggled his fingers at Scott through the blood stained tear in his shirt.

Scott stooped to get a closer look at the long scratch using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe off some of the blood to get a better look, ignoring Stiles' gripping about 'lack of sanitary habit'. "It was dark; maybe we just saw shadows and thought the worst."

"But I felt its teeth tear into me. I though he was going to take a chunk out of me."

Shaking his head, Scott poorly hid his smile. "I think you were terrified out there. You said it yourself there hasn't been wolves here in sixty years. This doesn't even look like a bite; it just looks like a bad scratch. Are you sure there was a wolf? Maybe you just got the shit scared out of you by some poor lost poodle and then you screamed like a girl."

"Dude, there is no way that I could mistake THAT for a poodle. It was gigantic with huge red eyes. I got bit and then I fought it off, I didn't just make this up." Stiles gestured to his torn and bloodied shirt to underscore his point.

"I'm not saying you are making it up, I'm just saying that maybe you are not remembering it the way it really happened. I mean, Dude, listen to yourself. Do you really think that you could fight off a wolf?"

Stiles' fingers clinched around the tire iron as his mind whirled over the night's events. "Maybe I'm just that badass."

He laughed it off as a joke but each moment was etched clearly in his mind, a stop-action animation of the attack, the feel of the teeth piercing his side, and the glowing red eyes that stared at him through the trees. He remembered it all with a detail that could not be imagined but he couldn't explain away the lack of a wound on his side.

"Scott, something really weird just happened tonight."

His friend snorted as he picked up the old tire and returned it to the back of the jeep. "Yeah, we found a body out in the woods. You have to admit that it is the weirdest thing that has ever happened to us."

Stiles nodded still deep in thought. "We better get home before my dad or your mom finds that we were out this late or out in the woods near an active crime scene." The drive to Scott's house was strangely quiet for Stiles. He didn't talk, caught instead in a constant loop of the evenings events. Before he knew it the jeep was parked in Scott's driveway as if it had steered itself.

"Do you want me to patch that up?" Scott asked as he propped himself up on the door frame. Stiles didn't say anything in response, just smiled and shook his head as he leaned over to close the door. A flip of his wrist in farewell and he was driving off toward home.

His skin seemed to simmer as he drove a warm sensation that became hotter by the moment. It wasn't a burn because there was no pain, just tingling warmth that spread up and down his body, making the muscles under his skin flicker miniature twitches that danced up and down his arms and legs.

Pulling into his drive, Stiles managed to get himself out of the jeep and into the house without any problems, making a bee-line for the shower. He didn't even take time to strip out of his clothes, just stood under the spray at the hottest setting his body could stand and let the water and steam envelope him, hiding him away from the outside world.

Half way through the shower he shucked the jeans and ripped shirt letting them fall in a wet heap on the tile floor. His skin felt like he was sun-burned, tight and hot under the jets of water. Turning the water cooler he tried to sooth the sensation but the feeling of heat only seemed to intensify. He could feel each individual globule as it struck his skin, rolled down the plains of his body to where it formed beads that created a slow pull of tension before dropping to the tile below. Unable to take the sensations anymore Stiles stepped out of the shower and toweled off.

His image in the mirror was blurry with condensation, rivulets of water cutting his reflection in to long lean pieces. The wound was still an angry red laceration running down the side of his rib cage. Around it the skin was starting to turn a dark shade of purplish blue. Seeing that it had stopped bleeding, Stiles bypassed the dressing and pulled an old T-shirt over his head and let himself crash into the bed.

_He ran, head down, lunging through the undergrowth, clawed feed digging into the soft earth sending up cool scents into the night air. The wind ruffled the ruff along his neck and shoulders, tickling the finer hairs of his ears, making them twitch and turn. In the distance he could hear the call of the others, their lonely howls filling him with longing and need. But there was an undercurrent of taint to the call, darkness that to which he refused to be drawn. He ran away from the sound of their calls until his paws where sore and red. The air brought a new scent to his nose that raised the hackles at his neck. The taint was stronger, its scent like sickness on the wind. Red eyes glowed from the depths of the trees, eyes that called for him to obey, to submit and be ruled. Stiles snarled, fangs glinting in the light of the full moon and sending a spray of foam outward. Turning graceful legs, he ran through the woods away from the one that demanded his submission, refusing the call to bare stomach and neck to his will, to the darkness of the one that called to him._

"Stiles wake up." His dad's strong hand on his shoulder woke him up from the tangle of his dream and he was moving, throwing himself back and away from the threat and landing in a snarl of sheets and blankets on the floor before his mind cleared itself from its sleep fogged state. "I've been calling you for the last five minutes. You are going to be late if you don't get a move on." His dad smiled down at him in his knot of sheets. "Some dream huh?"

"Yeah," Stiles mumbled as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His dad was out the door and half way down the stairs before he remembered the events of the night before. Rushing to his feet, barely missing hitting his head against the open closet door and careening into the foot of his bed, Stiles rushed to the bathroom to check the wound from the night before.

He stood shirtless in front of the mirror, mouth agape as he stared at the dark purple bruise that covered his side. There was no sign of the bite mark or the long scratch that it had evolved into during the drive home with Scott. All was left was the bruise that was fading to a sickly green as he watched it in the mirror.

"Oh. Shit."

"Scott's here." Stiles jumped into gear at the sound of his father's voice calling up the stairs. Grabbing the nearest shirt he pulled it over his head as he snagged some jeans and his shoes as the tumbled out of the room and down the stairs. He was hopping on one leg as he pulled on the jeans as he rounded the corner to the kitchen to find Scott and his dad sitting at the breakfast table.

It was a fairly normal scene except that today was the morning after 'the event' as Stiles would now call it and Scott was an idiot of immense proportions.

"How's your side?" His best friend asked completely missing the frantic head shake and flapping arm motions.

"What happen to your side son?" Caring blue eyes looked up from behind a sip of hot coffee. Stiles didn't have a chance to respond before Scott was answering in his chipper 'I'm a morning person' voice.

"He thought he was bit by a wolf last night when we were out at the preserve but it was just a mangy dog and it ended up only being a scratch. You should have seen him run." Scott's happy smile slowly fell off his face as he looked from Stiles' head lowered in defeat and disbelief and the sheriff's tensing body. "OOPS?"

"Why were you two at the preserve last night? Stiles let his body collapse into the nearest chair as he heard his dad's sheriff voice in that question. Scott never stood a chance. Between his complete lack of lying skills and his dad's awesome interrogation skills Scott had spilled every last secrete of the night before to Stiles' horror. He tried kicking him under the table as his idiot best friend went into detail about them practically tripping over the body and Stiles' escape from the mangy dog. His father ignored the jumping coffee cups and focused on Scott, pulling every last iota of information from his head.

By the time his dad had finished Stiles had his head down on the table wishing just slightly that it was a guillotine and it would all be over before his dad got hold of him. "You have practice today?"

Not the threat to life and laptop he was expecting. "Yes."

"I want you to come straight home after practice, both of you. I am going to have some more questions for you two." The sheriff put his mug in the sink and gathered his keys and file folders. Pausing in the hallway he threw over his shoulder to Stiles, "And son, you and I will be having a talk later tonight about your curfew hours."

"I don't have a curfew."

"You do now."


	3. Chapter 3

The drive to school was silent not because Stiles was giving Scott the silent treatment for exposing their night of excitement, even though he surely deserved it, but because Stiles was mainly focused on the amazing and somewhat disturbing discovery that he could hear each beat of his best friend's heart.

As if hearing his friend's heart wasn't strange enough he was also assaulted by a variety of smells: the half of burger he had thrown in the back of his jeep last week, the spearmint gum in Scott's pocket, and the perfume the lady and the car next to him was wearing. His vision flickered between his usual excellent eyesight to zeroing in on the smallest detail that he shouldn't be able to see.

All and all it was giving him a headache and he wished that he could have just stayed in bed this morning.

Stiles' hearing fixated on the soft sound made by Scott opening and closing his hand while running his nails along his jean's outside seam. It was a nervous habit he had since childhood though Stiles had never really thought about it until now. Today, however, it was going to drive him mad.

"Look, I'm sorry I slipped up with your dad." The strange tang in the air intensified briefly and Stiles' hind brain catalogued it as discomfort. The heartbeat he had been listening to picked up again before settling down to a more normal rhythm.

He wasn't. Sorry that is. Stiles let his eyes drift over to his friend as he asked, "You mean you DIDN'T tell him on purpose?"

The slight up-tick was back, the beat picking up speed for just a second before returning to normal. "Of course not, I didn't want to get you in trouble." Not a lie but definitely not the truth either.

"I know you wanted to tell him something. Was it the body? You needed to tell him about that?"

Scott looked over in shock. Stiles didn't look angry just slightly disappointed as if dealing with a small child who had taken too many cookies before dinner. "He needed to know about the body. I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

Stiles nodded, head tilted to hear the steady beat that promised the truth was spoken. He didn't even stop to think about how strange it was for him to be listening to Scott's heartbeat until he pulled into the parking lot at school.

As soon as he looked at the students milling about the school grounds he was flooded with their voices, each one sounding like they were standing right next to him and shouting out their conversation. Leaning against the steering wheel Stiles clutched his head in a feeble attempt to block the riot of noise.

So focused on the wave upon wave of sound, Stiles didn't hear or acknowledge his friend until Scott grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back from the wheel. He snapped back to his surroundings with a startled yell and a flailing of his limbs.

"What the hell, Stiles?"

"I'm okay. Everything just got really loud all of a sudden." Now Stiles could hear his own heart give a tail-tale thump at his lie.

"Do you want me to take you to the nurse?"

Stiles shook his head. He didn't like nurses or doctors and if he never had to see one again it would be just perfect in his book. He knew something was off but he why worry when burying your head in the sand for a little while longer is still an option.

Scott's heartbeat picks up as his eyes focus on something behind Stiles. Turning slightly Stiles can see Lydia and Allison walking toward the doors and notices that his own heartbeat has picked up as well, matching the frantic thump of his friends. Once he looks at the two girls hearing their conversation somehow becomes easy.

"I think he's cute. I mean, come on, his eyes are just adorable."

"McCall? Scott McCall? He's Steve's friend."

"Uh…I think its Stiles."

"What's a stiles? Whatever. I just think you can seriously do better."

Stiles let his head bump the steering wheel in a slow beat. "She doesn't even know my name." Since third grade he had loved Lydia and he didn't even register enough on her radar for her to know his name.

"What are you talking about?" Scott was torn between eyeing the love of his life and worrying about his friend who was acting stranger than usual even for Stiles.

"Allison thinks you are cute and Lydia doesn't even remember my name."

Scott's look of utter shock and amazed hope was truly endearing even if it made him look like the village idiot. "She thinks I'm cute? Do you think I should ask her out?" Twisting the rear view mirror Scott checked his hair in the mirror and gave a quick sniff to check the ripeness of his clothes. "God, I wish I had worn something else. Wait!" Scott was half way out the door before his brain kicked in and over rode his libido. "How did you hear that?" Sliding back in he slammed the door behind him and put a hand on the back of Stiles' head which was still beating against the wheel.

"I don't know; I can just hear them like they're standing right next to me. Lydia is complementing Allison on her taste in clothing and Allison just said that jacket is her favorite."

"Wow. You practically have a super power or something." Pausing Scott's face took on a slightly worried expression. "I saw this movie once where a guy started getting all these super powers, it turned out that he just had a brain tumor and he died."

Stiles rolled his head in Scott's direction, mouth gapping in astonishment. "How are we even friends? Way to be supportive. 'Hey, that's so cool that you might have a massive brain tumor and die' isn't really a great thing to throw into a conversation. Way to make me feel all safe and NON-terminal dude"

Scott blushed and dropped his head. "Sorry I didn't think." He paused at Stiles' snort. "Did you hear anything else that she said about me?"

"OH. MY. GOD." Stiles slammed his way out of the jeep and stormed up the stairs into the school passing right under one of the speakers just as the first bell rang. The siren like wail drove him to his knees covering sensitive ears as he curled in on himself for protection against the horrid sound. When the bell shut off he found himself surrounded by staring classmates' expressions ranging from amusement and out right laughter to unease and worry.

"Hey, just a migraine headache. Nothing to see here." Scott reached him as he got to his feet and pulled him inside to their lockers.

"What is going on with you?" Scott asked as he steered him down the hallway to their adjoining lockers.

"I have no idea." Closing his locker and leaning heavily against it Stiles stared into space for a minute as Scott's questions washed over him. His nose flared as he picked up on a strange scent coming down the hall. It smelled of earth, rich and dark paired with the taste of ozone after a hard storm. A thin dark haired boy, obviously a freshman, hurried down the hallway only to stumble to a stop in front of Stiles. He looked startled and then his eyes narrowed sending a shiver down Stiles spine.

Stiles pushed himself off his locker to stand at his full height just as the boy took a step toward him. He would never know what would have happened because Scott grabbed his arm at that exact moment to drag him off to chemistry so they wouldn't be late. Again.

Chemistry was hell on good days. On days that he was hearing the impossible and smelling strange scents at every turn it was just demonic, as in ninth circle of hell bad. Harris seemed to purposefully drag the chalk across the board in such a way that it created the highest pitched squeals possible. Stiles thought that his ears would be bleeding before class was even over. To add to his discomfort he could smell a chemical stench that made his eyes water and his nose burn. And like a blood red cherry on top of his 'fuck my life' sundae was the pain radiating up his arm.

From the bones of his wrist where his wooden bracelet rested and up to his shoulder alternating waves of burning and itching flowed. His side where he was bit seemed to throbbing in tandem with the waves.

Ignoring the growing board of notes he should be coping, Stiles begins to write a list of weird symptoms that he has been experience for the last few hours. Slightly alarmed by the growing list Stiles folds it up and passes it to Scott for his opinion. His best friend looks intently at the paper before writing and handing it back to Stiles.

Do you think I should ask Alison out for this weekend?

Stiles is too busy shooting eye daggers at the back of his friends head to notice Harris stalking up behind him to snatch the note from his fingers.

"Maybe you need to spend some time with me in detention today Mr. Stilinski? Or do you think you can pay attention in my classroom for the duration of the period."

"Yes sir, I mean no sir. I mean, yes I can pay attention."

"Good." Stiles spent the rest of the period focused on the notes and not of the whispered questions from Scott about his weekend dilemma.

When the bell rang Stiles was out the door and half way down the hall before Scott could even gather up his things. Ducking into the bathroom Stiles checked the wound on his side which had finally stopped throbbing. He couldn't hold back the small meeping sound that escaped from his lips when he saw that the wound, it was almost completely healed but now was outlined in a starburst pattern of black veins that traveled up his side and around to his back.

He inhaled a sharp "fuck" at the sight.

The sudden burning sensation in his skin took him by surprise, he felt like he was burning up. Hissing through clinched teeth he splashed cool water on his face and wet paper towels to rub across his stomach and chest. Holding his head down in the sink Stile was letting cool water flow over the back of his head when the scent of ozone hit him. He turned and watched as the dark haired boy crept into the bathroom and up to the sink next to him.

Stiles could feel a rumble building in his throat as he kept an eye on the smaller boy. Washing his hands in the sink next to Stiles the dark haired freshman seemed to ignore him but Stiles could feel his attention, feel him like the creep of spider legs across his skin. The rumble in his chest grew, expanded until his body hummed with its sub vocal power.

How long does it take someone to wash their hands? Stiles was on the edge, ready to do something when the bell rang. After a few more seconds of staring the boy left the bathroom, backing slowly toward the door never turning his back. Stiles remained behind deciding to skip second period entirely as he struggled with his over - heated skin and strange black markings

The rest of the day is a confused blur. Everywhere he turns he is assaulted by sights, sounds, and smells. Girls walk by in clouds of perfume that he can almost see, his eyes randomly center on the strangest things, a student's lock down the hall where he can see the individual numbers as it is turned to the pink stain on the vice principal's shirt that is the exact hue as the dance teacher's lip stick.

His nose flares as he picks up the scent of copper and turned earth. Isaac turns the corner and the smell intensifies. Stiles immediately focuses on the small speck of blood on the collar of Isaac's shirt. Meeting Stiles' gaze for a split second, Isaac drops his eye immediately and moves off down the hall like wounded prey. Stiles finds the rumble in his chest has returned and intensified. Even though they can't hear it, the students in the hallway react to it, moving just a bit further away from Stiles and opening up a pathway for him to walk down the hall.

Even lunch, the only period of the day he can truly relax is ruined. He almost gags in the line, the abrasive stench of cleaners and bleach burning their way up his sinuses. It becomes even worse when he bites into his burger and practically throws it up.

"What's wrong?" Scott looks over at him in concern.

"It tastes wrong. Like it's been dipped in chemicals or something. You try it." Pushing it over the table to his friend Stiles sat back with his arms crossed as he watched him take a bite. The look of revulsion he was expecting never appeared.

"It tastes fine."

"Crap." Stiles mentally added taste buds gone bad to his growing list of symptoms. Deep in the pit of his stomach he was starting to think that Scott's brain tumor hypothesis was not too far off.

Keeping his head down and trying to block out the weirdness that had somehow become his life, Stiles made it through the rest of the day. He was half way out of his shirt, head buried in the cloth and arms flinging partially limp sleeves around his head when he heard Scott's sudden intake of breath.

"Fuck. Stiles what is THAT?"

Twirling blind Stiles managed to trip over the bench and sprawl at his friend feet before getting the double layer of shirts peeled off his body. "What? What's what?"

Scott pointed to his chest, eyes wide and mouth set in a line of disgust. Looking down Stiles could see a red rash, its edges raised above the unaffected skin that traveled from his inner elbow up his arm almost like the surface of his skin was boiling, spreading across his shoulder and down his back and side.

"Did you get bit by something?" Stiles had to stop, totally ignore his growing panic and fear, to look at his best friend and apparent moron in utter bewilderment.

"Yeah, genius. A WOLF, remember last night, the woods, me screaming and running and the blood all over my shirt. Yes, I was bit by something."

Scott at least had the decency to look embarrassed. "I know, I just meant maybe something bit you that you were allergic too, a spider or something. You know something strange."

"Right, because a wolf bite that disappears by morning is just so very normal."

Rolling his eyes at the village idiot masquerading as his best friend Stile finished getting dressed for practice and ran out toward the field. Today was scrimmage practice. As usual Coach had them divided into his A team and B team. Stiles looked down at the crusty white jersey and wondered, not for the first time, if having a color that so easily showed blood was the best uniform choice for the team that was about to be driven into the ground.

Stiles is still contemplating colors and his impending embarrassment at the hands of Jackson and company when the whistles blows. Jackson blitzes down the field slamming his shoulder into Scott, sending him flying briefly to land shoulder first a few feet away.

Running to his side, Stiles was relieved to see his friend climbing to his feet on his own. "Hey, it's just practice," he yells to a smug looking Jackson.

"It's thinking like that keeping you two losers on the bench." The careless smirk Jackson flashes at him as he jogs by makes Stiles' blood boil.

Coach barely blows the whistle and Jackson is down the field taking Scott out again with another blow to the shoulder that leaves the teen dazed on the field. Stiles ignores the mumbled 'I'm okay' and helps Scott back to his feet.

The blood pounds in his head, a red haze films over his vision tinting the world in a ruddy hue. It feels like he is moving through thickened air as Stile returns to his position on the field, focused on Jackson and the ball. The rhythmic thudding of his teammates hearts blend into a low hum of static background noise as Stiles waits, weight shifted forward on toes and breath stilled in his chest.

At the whistle he darts down the field. The rest of the players seems to move in slow motion and it is almost too easy to reach out with his stick and snatch the ball away mid pass. He takes off down the field toward the goal tracking the sluggish motion of the two players that move in to block his path ahead. Their muscles bunch and the tilt of their bodies telegraph their direction and Stiles is able to switch his course with a twist of his hips and a step turn to the right, weaving through the opposing force as if they were standing still.

A third comes in to block him with his body and Stiles just lets himself pause, a slight pulling back in his chest and a tilt or his chin, and the boy is barreling past him. With the goal wide open, only Danny standing between him and scoring, Stiles puts on a last burst of speed, curling in mid leap to fire the ball into the goal.

The sound of the whistle cuts through Stiles bringing the world back into focus. The voices of Scott and his team finally register as they scream and cheer at his goal. Scott pounds on his back in joy. "Way to go Stiles, that was awesome."

"Stilinski, "Coach bellows. "Get your ass over here." As soon as Stiles is in range, Coach grabs his face mask and pulls him close. "What the HELL was that?"

Blinking from the smell of garlic and what could possibly be a dead skunk, Stiles fought for the correct response to the question. "A goal?"

"Damn straight, now do it again." With a ringing slap to the back of the helmet and a push of the face plate, Coach sent Stiles trotting back to the field for another run. Jackson snarls as he faces off against him, digging his stick into the dirt at his feet.

"Just luck asshole. Enjoy your moment because it's over." The whistle blows. The world shrinks to the sound of his heart and the small white ball. Lub dub. He twists his wrist and scoops the ball into his net. Lub dub. Jackson's shoulder is pressed with his and Stiles uses the counter push to turn against him and spins. Lub dub. The field and players seem to flash by and he finds himself in front of the goal. Lub dub. The ball wizzes from his stick and past Danny

Stiles can only stand mouth ajar and eyes blinking in shock, looking widely at Danny. "That was a goal? Dude, did I just score?"

Danny smiles past his own shock and pats him on the shoulder. "Nice play." There is a reason that everyone likes Danny.

The rest of the practice is more of the same. After another two effortless goals Stiles begins to think that the team is playing some sort of elaborate practical joke on him and he begins to get angry. Really fucking angry.

He can feel his skin getting hotter, his lungs burn, and he has a tingling pain at the tips of his fingers and along his gums. The whistle signaling the end of practice finally rings and he storms off to the lockers slamming his kit downs as he goes.

Scott trots at his side, picking up the discarded helmet and handing it back to him. "You were amazing out there today. Keep that up and you will be first string in no time."

Stiles just growls in response as he strips off the rest of his gear. He is down to his pads when Jackson pushes into his space and backs him up until he is pressed between the cold lockers and Jackson's overly muscled chest.

"Who the hell do you think you are? I don't know what you took but you're not gonna get away with it you little shit."

Stiles pushes him back lifting Jackson off his feet. "I don't know what game you are playing with me but you need to stop. I don't need your pity or your fucking mind games." Jackson face turns red as Stiles' grip begins to cut off his air and Scott franticly pulls at Stiles to get him to release his hold on the jock.

With a snarl Stiles turns and pushes Scott away from his. The force throws Scott to the floor where he slides back until he hits one of the benches. "What is wrong with you? God, I can't believe you're taking something. Stiles you don't want to do that."

"I'm not! I would never." Turning to face the team that has become silent as they watch the drama unfold before then, Stiles roars, "I'm not on drugs!" It's not until he is faced with the dent in the locker that he realizes that he threw a punch.

Staring at the dent, Jackson smirks his trademark asshole grin. "Yeah, cause that," he gestures to the massive indention, "is completely normal for you."

The feeling that there is not enough air in the room intensifies and Stiles finds himself right up in Jackson's face, forcing the teen to take a step back. "I. Am. Not. Taking. Drugs."

"Okay, okay, whatever you say."

Suddenly Stiles is flooded by a smell that seems to come from all the boys, it is acid and tangy with just a hint of sweetness…fear, he realizes, fear of him. . Wide eyed he stares at them, most of whom won't met his eyes and then he bolts, grabbing his shirt from the bench as he runs out the door and away from the school.

He doesn't even head for his jeep just into the forest where the shade and darkness seems to sooth him. He is still feeling off but the forest makes it bearable.

There is a rustle and a pair of eyes. A scent that he almost recognizes fills him, and he lunges into an attack. His stalker is monstrous, with pointed ears and a fanged jaw. Using speed that Stiles didn't know he possessed, he dodged away from the first attack keeping just out of reach. The sound of the blows that do breach Stiles defenses make him realize how much power it being put into each strike yet he is an equal match.

Stiles quickly tires of being on the defensive, his blood thirst for this fight, anger and frustration that had been building within him all day finally being given an outlet. His first punch staggers the wolf-like creature back a step. But his second is blocked, clawed hands gripping vice like around his wrist. With a twist, Stiles breaks free but not before his bracelet his forced against the clawed hand. With a hiss of pain the creature releases his hand but not before the bracelet broke, scattering the beads on the ground.

His body clinches and releases at the same time and Stiles is brought to his knees in almost pain. He watches his hands become claws and can feel the change to his ears and teeth.

Once the change is over he stands in the forest with the other watching as he takes in great gasping breaths.

"What the hell happened to me?"

"You were bitten"

"Yeah, and then I got better."

The creature nods. "Well, yeah, werewolves tend to heal quickly."

"Oh. Shit."


	4. Chapter 4

Staring down at his claw tipped hands in shock Stiles completely ignored the younger boy as he ran trembling fingers over sharply pointed ears and down the sides of his face feeling the furred mutton chop that covered his cheeks. His jaw felt strange and he tentatively brought his fingers to his mouth to trace over the fangs pricking his pad on their points.

"What the hell happened to me?" The younger boy leaned back giving Stiles the room he didn't know he needed until the extra space between them loosened the tension in his chest. The shifting wind brought hints of a scent to his nose, somehow familiar to him. Tilting his head Stiles stepped closer, letting his nose flare to take in more of the scent letting the instincts he didn't have until just now sort through the information gathered.

Amber eyes flashed from under a dark mop of hair as Stiles moved closer. "You were bitten." Something in that other worldly glow cast by the boy's eyes triggered anger in Stiles that he had never felt before. A low growl rumbled out from his chest and he stalked across the small space toward the boy.

Stumbling backwards the dark haired boy found himself pressed to a tree with Stiles pinning him in place with his gaze along. Tilting chin up and to the side, he offered his throat to Stiles. Teeth brushing along the vein Stiles forced the wild instinct down before he drew blood. Voice deeper with the echo of his growl still vibrating along his skin he spoke. "I WAS bitten but then I got better. Is that why you've been stalking me? In the hallway at school and then the bathroom. Do you have something to do with this?" The threat implied by that question was left unspoken but the intensity leaving his meaning clear.

Lifting his chin higher as his eyes changed completely to amber the boy answered in a frantic tumble of words. "I wasn't stalking you. I caught your scent but it was funny like your wolf was being blocked. I was trying to find out if you had been changed. There's another wolf in our territory. That must be what happened to you."

Stiles thought as he allowed the razor tipped nail of his thumb to stroke up and down the side of the boy's throat. Inside his mind was whirling, trying to deal with the new set of instincts and emotions suddenly thrust upon him. He had never been a violent person but he found himself strangely drawn to the sound of the blood pumping below his fingertips. His thoughts twisted and twirled and he struggled against the pull of instinct, latching on to one important fact. "I was bitten by a werewolf?"

"Yes." The answer was hissed as his nail scraped skin drawing a line of blood down the boy's throat. Stiles' new instincts screamed NOT PACK, NOT SAME, rattling against his control to dominate the younger wolf, drive him into submission or off his territory.

Shaking his head as if to knock the violent needs from his brain, Stiles stepped away from the boy, fighting back his wolf until his claws slowly turned back to human shaped nails. The internal battle left him panting, eyes glassy and staring at the boy.

"Damn, your control is really good. I've never heard of a newly turned wolf being able to control his shift." With a friendly smile he extended a hand. "I'm Alexander Hale."

Stiles eyed the blood that ran down Alex's neck from a wound that was no longer there. Feeling bad for the pain he had caused he reached out to touch the trickle.

"Alex, I'm going to fucking kill you," called an angry voice from just out of their sight. "I told you to stay away from that kid until we had more information about who turned him." I muscular man stepped into view.

Stiles had merely a moment to process the man, dark hair spiked in front with piercing green tinted hazel eyes wearing combo of black on black accented with more black, before he was lunging across the short distance and flinging Stiles against a tree.

Shaking off the speckles of darkness impeding his vision Stiles stared at the werewolf that had just tossed him like a toy doll across the forest. His eyes were now blazing neon blue, fangs out snarling as he stood between what had to me his little brother and Stiles.

Stiles pushed himself off the trunk and slowly turned as the older wolf circled him. Both of them ignored Alex's whispered, "oh shit". Feeling the change Stiles let his shoulders roll enjoying the way his muscles shifted and flexed under his skin. The forest's colors muted slightly but their outlines became more defined and detailed.

Letting his nostrils flare Stiles took in the wolf's scent. The underlying scent of werewolf, it seemed, was a deep woodsy scent, which both Alex and his older brother shared, but each wolf had a different over scent that accompanied it. The younger wolf was woodsy with the scent of fresh grown grass but the wolf circling him was woodsy with a touch of warmth. Stiles couldn't quite place it but the scent brought up memories of the clothes his mother lined dried and how they always smelled better than the dryer, like somehow she had bottled up the sun and wind to scent the clothing.

The older wolf was just slightly taller than Stiles but broader in the shoulders his strength evident in the build of his arms and chest. He hadn't really felt threatened by Alex but the older brother was a whole different matter. He was certainly the big bad wolf and Stiles was beginning to feel like Little Red. Stepping forward the larger wolf let out a howl that made Stiles' spine quiver. A sudden flash of_**other, wrong, bad**_hit Stiles so quickly, so hard that it forced him back a step.

Both his logical and instinctual parts of his brain reacted to the challenge. He knew that he was the unknown wolf trespassing on another wolf's territory and that sent his new instincts on fire. Blue eyes traveled down Stiles' body until they rested, fury evident, on his hands. Lifting his palm Stiles stared at the blood still staining the tips of his claws. Alex's blood.

He could feel the growl before it reached his ears, low and deadly it made his chest vibrate. Reacting to the increase in Stiles' heartbeat, Alex moved closer and tried to catch hold of his brother's arm but was pushed away to land bottom first on the leaves. Stiles felt the panic welling up inside of him along with the scent of fear, an acrid stench that burned his nose.

Body lowering as he prepared to attack, the larger wolf let his growl become a full throated roar. Stiles didn't wait to see what he was planning to do, just turned and fled as fast as his new werewolf body would let him. At first Stiles ran like a human fighting against the forest as branches caught at his shirt and roots seemed to appear out of nowhere to trip him up. His breathing becoming labored as his chest filled with fear of the wolf behind him and what he would do once he caught him.

Stumbling over another root, Stiles found himself slamming face first into the ground. Instead of driving his panic, the smell of moist earth reached something primal in his soul helping him find his center and calm his frantic nerves.

Ahead the forest narrowed down, his pathway became clear and he was weaving through the forest on all fours running full out and doing his best of leave the other wolf far behind him.

It was an unfortunate combination of things that ended Stiles' escape: a lack of knowledge of his surroundings plus his inability to pay attention to what was up ahead caused Stiles to find himself at the edge of Buther's Ravine, a rocky expanse about twelve feet down and twenty feet across. Stiles reacted quickly, stopping just shy of the edge before turning west to head parallel to the ravine until a ragged outcropping of boulder blocked his path.

Being backed into a corner by werewolves made the human part of Stiles start to panic but his wolf, newly formed and still weak, growled in anger causing the approaching werewolves to snarl back. Stiles tried to think, to make some sort of escape plan. He had always relied on his quick wit and sharp tongue to get himself out of the most insane situations but this time it was like swimming though cotton, his mind was sluggish and unresponsive.

With reason locked away instinct took over. The newly awakened wolf threw himself forward, attacking the larger male in a fury of slashes. Stiles' claws blurred with the speed and power behind each strike but the other wolf seemed to know his move before he even made them, anticipating each thrust until Stiles was panting with exhaustion.

The dark haired wolf paced back in forth keeping himself between Stiles and escape while watching his opponent struggle to catch his breath. Stiles felt a little betrayed by his own body. Damn, he was a werewolf, shouldn't things like being out of breath be a worry of the past. Pulling in another gasping, shuddering breath Stiles found himself backing up as the older man smiled, fangs glistening, lacking humor but full the dark promise of violence to come.

Backed to the very edge of the ravine, loose rocks clamoring down the side behind his, Stiles fought back the red haze that was his fighting wolf. Instinct alone would not be able to save him. Pushing down the fear his human side felt and the raging instinct to just attack mindlessly from his wolf, Stiles concentrated on finding a way to join the two halves of his soul. Acting as both wolf and man would not help him escape.

Alex crashed out of the woods behind his brother identical hazel eyes darting between the two fighters. "Derek, you're scaring him. Dad always says that backing someone into a corner is the best way to make them attack."

"Shut up Alex! You know better than to confront an intruder. I think Mom was pretty clear about keeping your distance and alerting the family if you came across any strange wolves."

"He's not a strange wolf. It's Stiles. He goes to high school with me. His father is the sheriff so it's not like you can just run him out of town."

"No, I guess we can't."

Stiles didn't know what was going on in Derek's head but he didn't like the calculating look sent in his direction. Wolf and human were in accord on this; he needed to get away.

Lunging forward again, Stiles imitated the uncontrolled attacks he had made before, then twisting under the expected counter to run his claws along Derek's rib cage, cutting through leather, cloth and skin. He had just a split second to look at the blood that coated his fingertips; Alex's whispered "oh fuck" hinting at the trouble he had just unleashed.

Derek pulled on his jacket eyeing the small tear in the leather before shooting Stiles a look of disbelief. Stiles returned the gaze with a smirk before he was fending off Derek's attack.

Stiles quickly found that Derek had been going easy on him, gently testing an unknown, newly turned idiot wolf so that no one would really get hurt. That was before. Now Derek was fully invested in the fight and more importantly winning the fight and letting said idiot wolves learn their place.

Stiles tried employing skills learned from his brief interest in boxing. Maybe if he had lasted more than three classes he would have had a better chance but being on the wrong end of the rapid slashes of claws followed by formidable punches, Stiles doubted years of study would have helped him in this battle.

Stiles again found himself balanced on the edge of the ravine. This time his clothes were ripped and stained with blood. He could feel the cuts, slashes, and bruises trying to heal, the strange pull and itch as the skin knitted itself together and the muscles beneath reattached.

Derek looked unmarked except for the one tear in his jacket. Stiles knew he had cut him more than that one time but there weren't even blood stains on his clothing to show that he had been attacked while Stiles looked like a war zone survivor.

Stiles was beginning to feel light headed from the blood loss even with the rapid healing his body was not able to replace the amounts of blood he was losing as quickly as it could mend flesh and muscle. Desperate Stiles' wolf takes control narrowing the world to a hazy red. Attacking low as if trying to hamstring his opponent the wolf thrusts his body upward at the last second coming in under Derek's reach and aiming straight for his neck. Pulling the wolf back for just a moment, Stiles is shocked to find himself mere centimeters away from tearing into someone's throat with his fanged teeth.

For a brief moment they both stared into each other's eyes astonishment etched on their faces. Stiles' wolf and human halves struggled for control in that instant giving Derek the time needed to counter this unorthodox move. With one hand shoved claws first deep into Stiles' abdomen and the other almost shattering his shoulder, Derek tossed Stiles away from him and into the trunk of a large pine tree not too far from where Alex stood.

Stiles struggled to rise to his knees, his vision going dark, and blackness creeping along the edges of his vision making the world tunnel down to a distant view. He cupped his hands around his stomach trying to slow the flow of blood pouring out, running down his pants and onto the leaves below praying for the wound to heal.

Alex stood between him and his older brother yelling, "He's just been turned Derek. You need to stop before you kill him."

"I'm not going to kill him Alex but he is going to tell me the name of his alpha." Turning toward Stiles Derek threatened with brooding eyebrows and a scowl, "You WILL tell me."

Stiles found the way to his feet and stood on wobbly legs as Derek walked toward him. "I don't know who bit me. I was attacked last night while in the woods looking for the rest of the bodies of those two men that were attacked."

He tried to process the jumble of questions that bombarded him as he slid back down the tree the last of his energy used up. "Did you get a look at the alpha? Where exactly were you?" and a whispered, "Derek, he was bit less than twenty – four hours ago, he shouldn't even be able to change yet," followed Stiles into darkness.

Time seemed to move slowly for Stiles or the world was just moving at top speed around him. Each blink of his eyes had him jumping through time. Blink; he was on the ground in a pool of his own blood. Blink; he was being carried with infinite care by the brooding wolf that had just gutted him toward a dark car. Blink; he was in the back seat with a shirt tucked under his head and a black leather jacket draped over his shoulders while the brothers argued in the front seat.

"He wouldn't be bleeding all over your precious car if you hadn't tried to disembowel him out there. I thought we wanted to talk to him, find out who invaded our territory not fillet a high school student."

Derek's reply was lost as Stiles found himself pulled under again as his body forced him to shut down so that it could heal his badly wounded side.

His next weary blink occurs as they pull in front of a large house. From his position in the back seat, Stiles can make out the second story corner of the house, dark wood and in need of a paint job. Derek is pulling him out of the back of the car and up the steps before he even has time to sit up and get a good look around.

Stiles feels his side and stomach with gently probing touches finding that all his wounds have healed but are still tender to the touch. Still light headed from his blood loss Stiles allows Derek to half carry him into a large airy kitchen and force him into a chair.

The kitchen is bright and cheerful and just a little out of place for a group of werewolves to be sitting in. The curtains were yellow dotted with red script French words for food and the appliances scattered across the countertop all in a matching shiny red. Derek grabbed a glass from a cabinet and poured a large glass of OJ and placed it in front of Stiles.

At his confused expression Derek frowned, his eyebrows pulling together like gathering storm clouds. "Drink, it will help with the blood loss."

Derek spins a chair and sits backwards on it, arms crossed across the back of the chair, and stares as Stiles takes his first tentative sip of the juice. "You said you were attacked? When and where did this attack occur? And don't think you can lie to me. I can hear it and I will rip your throat out with my teeth if you do."

"Dramatic much," groaned Alex from where he stood behind Stiles.

Stiles glanced over to look at the younger brother. "Your brother is kind of a douche."

Alex let his shoulder shrug slightly in response. "Sorry about that."

The sound of Derek's palm slamming onto the kitchen table echoed in the kitchen like a gunshot causing both boys to jump. "Does this look like a game to you?"

"Well your eyebrows seem to be playing charades," Stiles mouth snarked before his brain had a chance to think of a proper response. Alex chuckled and Derek had Stiles pinned to the kitchen wall before he even knew the older man was moving. The up close view of neon blue eyes and fanged teeth had Stiles chest filling with the cold burn of panic.

"Derek, why do you have a guest pinned to the wall?" asked a soft warm voice from the back door. Stiles could see an attractive woman with honey blond hair over Derek's broad shoulder which tensed as soon as the she spoke. Alex expression was trapped between gleeful and shamed as he looked between his brother and, from the resemblance, his mother.

Derek dropped Stiles so quickly that he couldn't get his feet under him. Knees buckling Stiles ended up falling onto his ass, legs sprawled in front of him on the kitchen floor as Derek and Alex stared, guilt evident in their expression, at their shoes. The Hales' mother walked gracefully into the kitchen, dropping a quick kiss on Derek's forehead as she passed, followed by a dark haired female who circles around behind Derek to ruffle his dark hair. "You're in trouble" was mouthed by full lips along with a smirk that was quickly hidden as the mother turned toward the two.

"Who is our young guest?" Her voice remained pleasant but for just a second her eyes flashed red and the two brothers spilled the story out to her in fits and starts, running over each other's sentences as they tried to put their best spin on a situation that had suddenly spiraled out of control. When they both came stuttering to a halt, shoulders drooping as if they were slowly deflating, the brothers looked everywhere but at their mother.

Stiles waved, a weak flip of his wrist, and smiled unsure if he was allowed to talk. "Uh. Hello. I'm Stiles."

A soft 'hmmmm' was her only reply to the torrent of words. Walking over the where Stiles still sprawled on the floor she knelt gracefully next to him and ran a hand through his short hair. "Let's hear this from your point of view." It was said with a smile that warmed her eyes but with a tone that Stiles felt compelled to obey.

In a gush Stiles told her everything from his name to how he had forced his best friend to go traipsing through the woods with him in the middle of the night looking for half a body. "I didn't even know it was a werewolf. I thought it was a giant dog or something. Scott teased me all day that it was just a rabid poodle because the bite mark healed. I've been able to smell and hear things all day. I guess being a werewolf is better than having some sort of horrible brain tumor and dying."

The mom listened to the outflow of thoughts and fears as they poured from Stiles' mouth with a tilt of her head and a small smile on her lips. At the end she pulled him into a tight hug that made him feel like crying. It had been years since he had felt the warm arms of a mother wrapped around him. Suddenly, amidst the dead bodies and revelations of werewolves he felt safe. She placed a small nip on his cheek, almost like a motherly kiss, and a feeling of belonging and home washed over him.

A rush of warmth flowed through Stiles. He could feel a connection between himself and the female, the alpha his instincts provided. He tilted his head to the side, the act of submission feeling right to his new wolf. Smiling the alpha tussled his hair as she stood.

"You made him pack," Derek snarls before being cuffed by his older sister. "He's just some stray."

"Moron. As alpha she has the right to make a three eyed skunk part of the pack if she wants too. Hell, she keeps you around."

"After having to put up with you, I'm an improvement." Derek ducked out of reach as his sister reached over to try to mess his hair again but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Bounding over his bickering sibling Alex pulled Stiles to his feet. "Wanna play X-Box? I've got the new Halo."

Some small part of Stiles was screaming at him to run, get away from the werewolf version of the Cleaver's but all he seems able to do was nod and follow the younger teen into a living room brimming with furniture and pillows to play video games.

"Honey." Stiles looked up to see his new alpha standing in the living room door.

"Yes, ma'am?"

Tossing him the phone he had lost in the tussle with Derek she grinned, "Why don't you call your father and ask if you can stay for dinner. And Stiles, call me Maria."

"Crap." Ducking his head in embarrassment at his language, Stiles smiled as he apologized. "Sorry, ma'am. I just forgot. I'm grounded right now. I'm supposed to go home right after practice. It skipped my mind with all the…" Stiles looked at the werewolves surrounding him and flailed his arms trying to encompass all the chaos that had happened to him during the day.

Smiling in understanding the mom turned and patted Derek on the shoulder. "I'll call your dad and explain that you were helping my youngest while Derek takes you back home."

"I need to get my jeep from school." Stiles eyed the brooding Derek with distrust. He wasn't looking forward to spending time with him alone. His side gave a phantom twinge as Derek raised his lip letting a hint of fang show.

As if somehow knowing Derek was giving Stiles a hard time, Maria let her hand drift up to the back of his neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. "To your jeep then." Derek scowled under her hand but didn't argue. "I think you will start tutoring Alex's after school so that you can spend more time with your new pack. I'll call your father tonight and set it up." With another quick hug and a frown in Derek's direction, she pushed both boys out the front door.


	5. Chapter 5

Derek

Glancing down at the number on the screen Derek answered the phone not bothering to say hello, simply waiting to for his brother to start talking. It's what Alex did best.

"_Hey Derek. I think there's a new wolf at school today."_

"What do you mean you think?" Derek was immediately on alert. For the last week the Hale Pack had been coming across the tracks and scents of an invading alpha; tracks that had been well hidden and so far impossible to track. "Even if it's newly turned you should be able to scent it."

"_It's weird. It's like something is trying to mask the scent or even hold it back. I can't explain it but it's like the scent is trying to fight its way free, like something is blocking the wolf. How is that even possible Derek?"_

"It's not. You need to stay as far away from this person as you can. Don't go near him, don't talk to him, and don't look at him. I'm on my way to help. Damn it Alex, stay out of trouble." A wolf that was smart enough to evade the Hale Pack could be dangerous and Derek didn't want his baby brother anywhere near this new wolf.

Even without hearing the annoyed snort on the other end of the phone Derek knew that Alex would ignore him. His younger brother was always rushing into things, never using caution, and constantly leaping head first into whatever event was before him. Alex was impetuous, foolish, and Derek was going to kill him if he went anywhere near the strange wolf Alex said he smelled in the hallways of the school.

Alex wasn't that different from Derek at that age to be honest; back before **her**, before he almost caused the death of his entire family. His brother thought he was over protective but Derek knew the hazards of trusting the wrong people and he would be damned in hell before letting Alex get hurt.

The hum of his engine soothed him slightly as Derek turned down the long road that lead to the high school. Alex would be pissed we he saw Derek lurking outside his school; not that he cared. Alex's safety was the top priority.

The parking lot of the high school was emptying quickly, students without after school activities hurrying to their vehicles and heading home. Rolling down his window Derek inhaled trying to locate Alex or the strange new wolf. Catching a faint whiff of Alex he follows it around the front of the school but it is an older, well-worn scent of a place frequented by the younger male.

Turning to retrace his path Derek picks up a strange scent around an older model blue jeep. Stepping out of his car, the older wolf circled the jeep, nose flaring to take in the variety of scents. The vehicle smelled mostly of teen-age boy, old fries, and sweat but Derek could also pick up the smell of wolf but it is covered and contained. Strange. He understands what Alex meant when he said the scent was masked.

The sound of his phone ringing brings him out of his contemplation of the strange scent of the hidden wolf. He answers immediately, flipping the phone open at the sight of Alex's name on the scene. "Where are you?" he growls.

"He's heading out into the woods. I'm following him."

"The hell you are," roared Derek causing the few remaining high school students' heads to turn in shock as they headed out toward their cars. "Wait for me. I'm just around the front of the school."

"I'll be careful. I'll shift once I'm in the woods. I don't want to lose him." Alex hung up before Derek had a chance to reply.

Snarling Derek ran across the campus to the back of the school where he could smell the newer scents of his brother, the idiot, and the strange non-wolf smell. His instincts screamed _other, different, wrong_ as he followed his brother's trail into the woods.

The scent of family and pack intensified as Derek jogged along a rough deer trail through the woods. Alex was not too far ahead. "Alex, I'm going to fucking kill you," Derek yelled. "I told you to stay away from that kid until we had more information about who turned him."

The sweet scent of copper filled his nostrils, the smell of blood, his brother's blood. Derek broke into a run, the scent becoming stronger until he passed a large pine and saw the strange wolf with his brother. He paused, body tense at the sight of blood running down his brother's neck staining the collar of the t-shirt and the clawed tips of the strange wolf touching his brother's pulse point. Both of the younger wolves met his eyes for a moment; Alex's held a touch of relief and the strange wolf's held confusion.

Derek didn't give either teen a chance to speak, just lunged across the short distance to crash into the other wolf, wrapping his hands around his waist and pushing his shoulder up under his chest to get the leverage needed to throw the strange wolf across the small clearing and into a tree.

The other wolf pushed himself off of the tree, eyes a soft warm brown before shifting to a blazing blue. His shoulders rolled back as muscles shifted beneath his skin. The brown hair thickened and spread down the sides of his face framing the new shape of his brow and jawline.

"Oh Shit." Alex whispered from behind Derek as the two wolves squared off against each other. Derek took in the scent of the other, cataloging the new information. He smelled mostly of human male with a new overlay of wolf, the change couldn't be more than a day or two old. Mixed in with the expected smells was the scent of rowan and mountain ash. Derek saw scattered wooden beads across the forest floor and wondered briefly about their purpose as he scoops a few into his palm before letting his focus narrow to the wolf in front of him.

Not much older than Alex, the teen stood braced against the tree. The buzz cut made his beta form look a little silly but the speed of his transformation, especially if he was newly turned made him dangerous.

Derek's eyes narrowed as they came to rest on the red stained tips of the wolf's nails. Blood. Alex's blood. The low rumble of Derek's growl filled the woods and he took a menacing step toward the intruder who had dared harm his family, his pack.

With his growl echoing across the small clearing there came a new scent from the younger wolf, sharp and acidic, it was fear. Good he thought, let him be afraid and he roared in fury at the interloper who had trespassed on his pack's land.

The smaller wolf turned and ran, his shirt catching on the branches as he fled. Derek followed, listening to the sounds of his frantic heartbeat and labored breathing. The way this wolf ran was enough to prove that he was newly turned. He felt a moment of pity as the new wolf fell face first into the earth only to pick himself up and start running on all fours with a speed that amazed the older wolf.

Leaving a trail that a human could easily follow the younger wolf headed off toward Buther's Ravine which Derek knew would cut off his escape.

"Derek, slow down," called his brother but Derek pushed for more speed as the trees started to thin. As soon as he broke through the tree line he saw the younger wolf heading west along the ravine. The smile that crossed Derek's lips was a little cruel but the wolf had drawn Hale blood and was going to pay.

A line of boulders cut off the wolf's path forcing him to turn and face Derek. With his escape route blocked by the deep edge of the ravine and the massive rocks the younger wolf turned to face Derek with a low growl.

The attack was sudden and came as a complete surprise to Derek. A flurry of slashes sent him scrambling backward to avoid the first series of strikes but then he pulled his mind together and focused. The new wolf was strong and fast but his shift in footing and the change in his stance before each move made it easy for Derek to anticipate and counter each attack.

Sliding easily out of his reach of each attack Derek watched the way the new wolf handled himself. The slender wolf hesitated to use his claws, still trying to fight as a human but was quickly learning and adjusting to his new abilities. In just the few minutes they had been fighting the wolf had already changed his technique forcing Derek to quicken his defense. This was not a wolf he would want to face in his prime.

Moving from just countering the attack Derek began pressing his own assault pushing his opponent back, forcing him to dodge and weave to avoid being slashed. Within a handful of minutes the other wolf was struggling to catch his breath, gasping and shuddering at the edge of the ravine. Derek smiled, fangs glinting, at the exhausted but unrelenting glower that was sent his way.

Alex's arrival was an embarrassment to werewolves everywhere, heralded by the sounds of breaking branches and crunching leaves. Looking at his brother and the wolf trapped at the edge of the ravine, he called out, "Derek, you're scaring him. Dad always says that backing someone into a corner is the best way to make them attack."

Derek didn't need his idiot brother's advice on how to handle a newly turned wolf. "Shut up Alex!" he snarled. "You know better than to confront an intruder. I think Mom was pretty clear about keeping your distance and alerting the family if you came across any strange wolves." A part of him agreed with Alex but the image of the blood on his brother's neck was still strong in his mind.

"He's not a strange wolf. It's Stiles. He goes to high school with me. His father is the sheriff so it's not like you can just run him out of town."

Derek hadn't been planning on running this 'Stiles' out of town. Tearing him a new one for hurting his brother was number one on his list of things he was planning on doing, followed closely by dragging his scrawny ass back so that his mother could deal with him; find out who turned him and why this teen age boy would accept the bite from a rogue alpha.

"No, I guess we can't," was all the information he shared with his brother.

Distracted by his brother and his own thoughts Derek was unprepared for the abrupt attack from Stiles. Before he could get himself into position to block the strike Stiles had twisted under his outstretched arm to run his claws along Derek's rib cage, cutting through leather, cloth and skin.

Stiles and Derek both stared at the blood coating the younger wolf's hand in stock. Derek was the first to recover, fingering the tear in his jacket as Alex chanted "oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck" behind him. Glancing up he met Stiles' eyes. The little smirk of satisfaction shot his way sent him over the edge. He had been gentle enough with this pup. It was time to teach him a lesson and Derek attacked with a whirlwind of rapid slashes that sent the younger man backing franticly away.

Stiles used a strange combination of boxing jabs and unskilled slashes in his attack both of which were easily countered by Derek. His attack continues until the younger wolf was teetering alone the edge, clothes ripped and stained with his blood. Not wanting to force the younger wolf off the edge, Derek paused his attack.

Desperate, Stiles lunged forward toward Derek's hamstring thrusting upward at the last second to snap at his exposed throat. Catching him by his chest, fangs inches from his jugular, Derek looked with shock and then growing fury into the suddenly human light brown eyes.

Slamming his claws into Stiles' abdomen to pick him up, Derek tossed the pup into the nearest tree across from where his brother stood. He was wasting time with this fight, time he should be spending on finding out who the rogue alpha was on his pack's territory and why he was turning people.

Stalking toward the wolf, watching as he struggled to regain his footing, Derek found himself impressed by the strength shown by Stiles. He was half way to the downed wolf when Alex jumped between the two of them. "He's just been turned Derek. You need to stop before you kill him."

"I'm not going to kill him Alex but he is going to tell me the name of his alpha." Turning toward Stiles Derek threatened with brooding eyebrows and a scowl, "You WILL tell me."

Stiles wobbled to his feet, skin white and clammy but he still managed to growl as he said, "I don't know who bit me. I was attacked last night while in the woods looking for the rest of the bodies of those two men that were attacked."

A myriad of questions were on Derek's lips to ask but the boy shifted back to human, eyes rolling back in his head, and slumped to the ground. Derek managed to catch him before his head hit the ground. Staring for a moment at the young man as his brother gibbered behind him.

"Oh god. You killed him. That's Stiles. He's a good guy, funny, and he is always nice to the freshmen. God, Derek, is he dead?"

"Shut up! He's not dead. Listen to his heart. He's stronger than you give him credit for." Derek didn't like the color of the teen's skin or how cold he felt to his touch but he knew Stiles would heal given time. The brown eyes were opening, dazed and tracking oddly, by the time Derek finished looking over his wounds.

Scooping the teen up off the forest floor, Derek headed quickly back toward his jeep as Alex trailed along behind him. "You didn't need to be so rough. Why the hell did you attack him? Are you listening to me you big jerk? I had it under control! God you can be such a giant asshole sometimes."

"He had your blood on his hands, Alex. Was I just supposed to let some strange wolf harm you?"

"Damn it, I not a pup anymore. I can take care of myself and if you had just waited a second I could have told you that I had it under control. But, NOOOO, you had to rush in and save the fucking day."

Derek was able to tune out most of Alex's inane babbling as he hurried to his car. Getting Stiles into the backseat was tricky and the movements, no matter how careful Derek was, re-opened some of the deeper wounds.

"Give me your shirt." Derek held out a commanding hand and waited until Alex pulled off his over shirt, placing it gently under Stiles' head. Still unhappy with the chill of the teen's skin, Derek took off his own jacket and placed it over the young man.

"His wounds re-opened. Damn, he is going to get blood all over my backseat." Derek really didn't care about the blood but the sight of the unconscious wolf in his backseat made him tense and uncertain.

"He wouldn't be bleeding all over your precious car if you hadn't tried to disembowel him out there. I thought we wanted to talk to him, find out who invaded our territory not fillet a high school student."

"Believe me, if I was planning on filleting him he wouldn't be in my backseat. He'd be dead. I know he's in your school but if he is a danger to the pack I will finish him."

The wounded look Alex had on his face made Derek's chest clinch but he would never allow himself to be weak again, never to put his family in danger if he could protect them. He hardened himself to what could be, what he might have to do to protect his love ones even as he listened with growing relief to the strengthening heartbeat behind him.

Derek let out the tense breath that he hadn't even realized he was holding as they pulled up to the Hale family house. His mother, his alpha would know what to do, how to handle this strange new wolf that had fallen into his care.

_His care?_ Derek flinched. _No, why would he even think that? This was an interloper and an invader on his pack's territory. Why would he want to take him under his protection?_

Stiles was struggling to sit up in the back of the car and Derek reached in to help him stumble out without falling face first into the gravel of the driveway. He could tell by the way the teen held on to his stomach that his wounds, though healed, were still painful. Slinging an arm around the teen's narrow waist Derek half carried him into the house, pressing him gently but firmly into a chair at the kitchen table.

Curious brown eyes, more of a chestnut, gazed around the kitchen as Derek poured him a glass of orange juice. The teen's color was still too pale and he needed something to replace the blood he had lost even with his werewolf healing. Placing the glass in front of his 'guest' Derek scowled at the look of utter shock. "Drink, it will help with the blood loss."

Watching as Stiles took his first cautious sip, holding back the need to growl that it wasn't poisoned; Derek turned a chair and straddled it so that he could get some information before his mother came home.

"You said you were attacked? When and where did this attack occur? And don't think you can lie to me. I can hear it and I will rip your throat out with my teeth if you do."

"Dramatic much," groaned Alex from where he stood behind Stiles. The not so little voice inside Derek's head agreed. He found himself wanting to go easy on the young man which just triggered all his trust issues making him become more aggressive in his dealings. It was a downward spiral and he was at a loss on how to stop it or even if he should try.

Stiles' lips quirked upward, eyes sparkling with mischievous humor, as he looked over his shoulder at Alex. "Your brother is kind of a douche."

Alex let his shoulder shrug slightly in response. "Sorry about that."

The anger that Derek kept bottled up inside surged upward, boiling in his chest. Alex never took anything seriously. He was just going to open up and befriend this new wolf without knowing who had turned him or what his plans were for the Hale Pack. Derek could see a reflection of own foolish belief that people were inherently good shining in Alex's eyes, a belief that cost him dearly. It was a price Derek would never let Alex pay.

He wouldn't let his brother face the same pain, the same heartache that had sent him spiraling into despair four years ago. Slamming his palm onto the kitchen table, shocking both boys almost out of their seats, Derek stared at both of them from across the table.

"Does this look like a game to you?"

"Well your eyebrows seem to be playing charades." Stiles mouthed off causing Alex to chuckle. "Look, I get it but I don't think Hallmark makes a 'sorry I wolfed out and cut you' card.

He'd tried being nice but it looked like he was going to have to get his point across with a little more violence. Derek was out of his chair and had the teen pinned to the wall before Stiles or his brother could react. He let his eyes turn electric blue and his fangs drop down, letting the scent of panic fill his nostrils. Maybe know he could get some questions answered without the two teens acting like complete idiots.

"Derek, why do you have a guest pinned to the wall?"

Dropping Stiles so abruptly that the teen slumped to the ground at his feet, Derek turned to face his mother as she walked into the kitchen. Her soft smile didn't falter as she took in the scene in front of her but the twinge of her nose let Derek know that she was aware of the new wolf in their mist.

Maria, alpha of the Hale Pack, walked calmly into her kitchen, dropping a light kiss on Derek's forehead as she passed. Laura, his sister, followed behind with a smirk only a big sister could pull off and ruffled his hair as she passed. "You're in trouble," she mouthed.

"Who is our young guest?" Derek felt the slight pull of alpha in that question. Not only had he been rude to a guest, he had brought an outside wolf into the heart of the Hale territory. He wasn't sure which offence was worse in his mother's eyes but he quickly spilled the whole, pitiful story.

His mother listened with her head cocked gently to the side. Her features never changed, nor did her scent and Derek couldn't tell if he was in trouble or that Stiles was about to be eviscerated. Turning, Maria took a closer look at the teen who still sat sprawled on the tile floor.

"Uh. Hello. I'm Stiles." A goofy smile and a wave of his hand seemed to charm his mother. She walked over and dropped gracefully to his side.

"Let's hear this from your point of view." She smiled her warm smile, the one that made all Derek's problems seem to melt away and pushed a little of her alpha hold at the new wolf, soothing him on an instinctual level.

Derek listened as Stiles explained how he had been bitten, his fear of becoming sick when his first symptoms of the change came upon him. As he spoke his honest face, steady heartbeat, and wide ranging emotional scents showed his truthfulness.

Tears formed in the corner of Stiles' eyes as his mother pulled him in for a tight hug. The nip she placed on his cheek shocked Derek. He had thought she would offer him protection, allow him to stay near the Hale territory without fear of being run off but he never expected her to offer Stiles a place within their pack.

The sense of betrayal that poured through his veins was irrational, Derek knew that but it didn't stop the feeling. "You made him pack? He's just some stray."

"Moron. As alpha she has the right to make a three eyed skunk part of the pack if she wants too. Hell, she keeps you around." Laura's words sounded snippy but he could hear the shock in her voice at the newest addition to their pack. Knowing that his sister was shaken by his mother's choice made him feel better, like the world was once again turning properly under his feet.

"After having to put up with you, I'm an improvement." Derek ducked out of reach as his sister reached over to try to mess his hair again but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The familiar bickering with his sister helped calm Derek and he eased back into his chair at the kitchen table as Alex took his new pack mate into the living room to play computer games.

"Why?" Derek asked his mom quietly as the noise from the living room assured him that Stiles was focused on the game and not the kitchen conversation. "Why make him pack?"

"An omega is an awful thing. Stiles would have either ended up pack less or been pulled back to whoever sired him. Anyone who would turn a helpless teen and then let him face the changes on his own, endangering the packs as a whole as well as the well-being of Stiles, is not an alpha I would trust with that boys' life."

Derek nodded as he acknowledged the wisdom of his mother. "He's fast and he can already change at will. He will be a good addition to the pack if he is trustworthy." Old fears pulled at Derek's soul. "How do we know we can trust him?"

"Oh pup," Maria pulled Derek close. "If you spend your life making people earn your trust, you'll find that no one quite manages to live up to your expectations. Trust is a gift that should never be given lightly but it IS a gift. We give it and receive itin return. We all let each other down at times but that is why forgiveness is important too."

Derek huffed not wanting to agree or disagree with his mother. He followed her into the living room and watched as Stiles and Alex played a crazy game with characters that looked like sock puppets. He had never really understood Alex's obsession with these games.

Before he knew it his mother was volunteering him to drive Stiles back to his house. His mother guided him toward the door with a firm hand to his shoulder, barely giving him time to grab his keys before he was shoved out the door with the teen.

Once inside the car and heading back toward the school and Stiles' jeep, Derek tried his best to ignore the newest member of his pack. It was borderline impossible since the teen moved constantly, changing his channels on second and exploring his glove compartment in the next.

"Do you ever stop moving?"

Stiles smiled the fight in the woods apparently forgiven. "I've got ADD. I don't do still, or quiet, or focused. Plus I seem to be coming off my meds and that makes me just a little twitchy. So your whole family is wolves? Did you turn furry and growly when you were little? My mom always warned me not to eat the glue in kindergarten; did your mom warn you not to eat the hamster?"

"Do you ever stop talking?"

"No. Are you going to answer my questions? Or I could just talk some more. Did you know that the first circumcision is thought to have been a form of goddess worship?"

Weighing his options silently in his mind, Derek decided that it would be best for his sanity to answer Stiles' questions before the strange lecture became even weirder. "We don't change until puberty. Born wolves that is. We have our first change around thirteen or fourteen and by then we have a good idea on how to control our wolves so that we won't be a danger to anyone."

"That sucks. Acne, middle school, and a monthly attack of the furries, that couldn't have been fun."

"I never had acne and middle school wasn't so bad."

Stiles stared at him in utter shock. "I think I hate you. Acne should be some sort of rite of passage into pre-adulthood. Everyone should have to suffer equally."

Derek fought to keep his lip from curling in response to Stiles' humor. He couldn't let himself drop his guard until he was sure that the new wolf could be trusted. His faith in people, in outsiders, had long been burned out of him, turned to ashes by his own choices.

"Hey, you're going to miss the turn." Stiles reached over and placed a gentle hand on Derek's leg right above the knee. His grip tensed along the curve of the wheel as he twisted and braked to make the turn while his mind whirled with the flood of memories the simple touch brought.

_He had always thought she was beautiful … until that last night together when he awoke chained and naked to the wall of a small shed and the mask of kindness and love she had worn so convincingly was finally removed allowing him to see the real Kate. Her eyes were cold and Derek wondered briefly before the first roll of electricity savaged his body how he could have ever though they held the warmth of real emotion. _

"_There's a certain art to it, to the torture. Too much electricity and you will pass out, not enough and you can manage your change. Finding that right voltages," Kate twisted the knob on the device sending a jolt into his chest and side, "is just like writing poetry."_

_Derek shook and jerked, human blunt teeth biting though both lip and tongue as the electricity sent his muscles into spasms of pain. Once the current was turned off he hung limply in the chains chest heaving for breath. The hiss of a blade sliding from its sheath alerted him to the next portion of his torture._

_Kate smiled as she turned the blade back and forth letting the light play off its edge. Opening an ornate jar she dipped her fingers into the slightly lavender gel and coated the knife thoroughly. "It's a special blend of mine. Rare aconitum mixed with silver nitrate and bleeding heart which is such a beautiful flower, don't you think? Oh, don't worry love; it's not potent enough to kill you. I don't want you dead, well not yet anyway."_

_With a roll of her hips Kate moved closer to Derek her eyes and smile the same as when he first met her six months ago. How could he have missed the evil that lurked beneath those lush lashes, the insanity hidden behind her smile?_

_Derek could feel the poison before the blade even touched his skin and he threw himself back against the way desperately putting as much space between his chest and the knife as possible. The cruel upturn of Kate's lips revealed her enjoyment at his obvious fear. _

"_Shhhhh," Kate whispered in an unnerving echo of the voice she used the first time they made love. "This will only hurt for a little while. I won't leave you hear forever. Just long enough to bring you proof of your family's untimely deaths and then I make the pain stop. I'll end it forever."_

_The blade was sharp and it wasn't until the second cut that he felt the pain as his blood ran down his chest. By the second letter Kate carved into his chest the fiery of the poison was at its peak forcing a panting whine from Derek's throat. Kate took her time, each letter a calligraphy masterpiece of curves and flourishes running red with Derek's blood. _

_Stepping back she admired her work as she tapped the bloody tip of the blade against her lower lip. "It's all you ever were," Kate said as she turned and left the shed, left Derek hanging, chin resting on his chest allowing him a perfect upside-down view of the word CUR that she had carved into his chest._

The sharp pain to his jaw snapped him from the terror of his past. Stiles was pressed against his side shaking his hand in quick motions in the air. "Damn it Derek! Come back. Don't make me hit you again." He tried to sit up straight and push the teen off him but his car was slanted at an odd angle forcing Stiles to practically sit in his lap.

"What happened?" Looking over at Stiles he noticed that the teen was pale and was refusing to give into the fear that was evident in his eyes.

"Why the hell are you asking me? I just touched you and suddenly you start shaking and drove us into a ditch. My first day as a wolf and already I having my super-wolfie healing powers put to the test. Don't get me wrong, I'm great at tests but this is just ridiculous."

Ignoring the jumble of words that poured non-stop out of the teen's mouth Derek forced his way past Stiles and opened the passenger side door and climbed out. His car was in the shallow ditch that ran along the back of the high school. Taking a quick look around for observers Derek dropped his shoulder to the front end and pushed it gently backwards. The whoosh of all four tires touching down on the grass made him smile. The look of awe on Stiles' face through the front glass even more so.

"Fuck." Stiles whispered.

Derek let himself back in and started the car pleased to find that there was no lasting damage to his baby.

"You going to tell me why we ended up in a ditch?"

"It wasn't a ditch, just a shallow shoulder."

"Okay, sure, whatever lie you want to tell yourself. Want to tell me why we ended up on that shallow, ditch shaped, shoulder."

Derek pulled next to the blue jeep without answering and reached over to open the door for the teen. He held off pushing him out of his car, barely. "Don't forget to talk to your dad. Mom will be expecting you tomorrow after your practice."

Stiles stepped out of the car and turned to thank Derek for the ride but the older wolf had already put his car into reverse and was pulling out of the parking lot. Derek watched as Stiles gave a little wave from his rear view mirror and then stepped on the gas. He needed to get home, get calm, and figure out why this newest member of his pack was bringing memories of Kate to the surface.


	6. Chapter 6

Family

Stiles was leaning against the door with his hand shoved deep into his pocket, trying to fish out his key when his dad opened the door wide. Stumbling through with a muffled 'oomph' he managed to catch himself, clutching at his father's arms to keep from falling on his face.

Instead of stepping away, cheeks burning with embarrassment, like he would have the week before or even just yesterday, Stiles leaned into his father and wrapped him in a tight hug. He found himself pressing his nose against the collar of his father's uniform, breathing in the scent of coffee, gun oil, safety, and love.

His dad hesitated for the briefest of seconds in confusion but then pulled his son into an embrace. "You okay son?" The sheriff's voice held a trace of worry at his son's unusual greeting.

Stiles could pick up the change in his scent and mentally marked it as worry. "Just a strange day, Dad. Not to worry, I'm fine. Sometimes even awesome guys like me just need a hug." His father's arms squeezed just a little more making Stiles think again just how lucky he was to have such a great dad.

Noticing for the first time since he fell through the door that his father was wearing his uniform, Stiles stepped back with a small frown creasing his brow. "I thought you had tonight off. Who is going to play the part of my jailor if you leave? I'll be free to cause havoc and chaos across the countryside without you here to keep me on a short leash."

Huffing with good humor the sheriff ruffled his son's short hair. "I'm the sheriff. I will know if you leave this house and then I WILL be your jailor." Giving Stiles his 'I'm not joking face' to stress his point, the sheriff had to struggle to hide the smile when his son replied with a jaunty salute.

"Maria Hale gave me a call today. She said you agreed to tutor her youngest boy in algebra."

Stiles lifted one shoulder in a listless shrug. "I told her I was grounded but she said she would ask you. I would go over to her house after practice and help Alex."

Nodding his dad smiled. "She promised me that she would keep an eye on you and make sure you got your own homework done. Maria even mentioned that you could stay for dinner on nights I work late." Stiles didn't like the way his father's eyes darkened briefly. He knew how much his father hated leaving Stiles along as much as he had to in order to do his job.

"I wouldn't mind hanging out with Alex. Scott has a new girlfriend so he's been busy recently."

"But you will come home straight from the Hale house? No detours until your grounding is over." Smiling widely Stiles quickly agreed.

Pulling Stiles in for another quick hug, the sheriff left as Stiles locked the door behind him. Letting his head rest against the door Stiles listened as his father got into his squad car and drove away. He could still hear the hum of the engine as the car turned the corner at the end of the block.

Once the sound of the engine becomes too faint for even his werewolf hearing to pick up, Stiles turned and entered the living room where he flopped in front of the TV surfing past the gazillion channels yet finding nothing he wanted to watch.

Leg tapping, fingers twitching, his whole body a bundle of frayed nerves Stiles turned off the TV in disgust and stomped upstairs to relieve his tension with something a little more violent. Maybe a night of Bioshock Infinite would be able to numb his mind. But even in the midst of the game he couldn't keep his body still, the action of the game just making it worse. In a fit of frustration Stiles pushed away from his desk, the chair rolling backwards until in caught on the carpet and tipped over. Stiles managed to stand just before the chair tumbled to the floor and paced the confines of his room with a restless stride.

Flickering images of the day invaded his mind; the first instant the change took over his body, how it felt as he lost himself to the wolf inside, the roll of scents and sights, and the way Alex's blood tasted in the air. It all combined in a cacophony of emotions that forced him take a lurching step forward in order to brace himself on the doorframe.

Part of him had enjoyed it, the feeling of power that ran through his body as his new instincts took control. There was a freedom in the wolf that he had never felt before. It was addicting in so many ways but the easy violence that lay just beneath the surface twisted Stiles with a heavy feeling of guilt.

If letting go, becoming so in tune with his wolf half was so easy **now** what would happen when the moon was full. Would he lose control? Change into a werewolf and attack his dad as his untamed wolf took control.

"Oh God!" Stiles wheezed his knees buckling as he dropped to the ground. Visions of his father having to shoot the wild beast that invaded his home only to find that the lifeless body was his son filled Stiles' thoughts as he rocked back in forth on the floor.

What if he couldn't control himself during the full moon and attacked his dad. He would never be able to live with himself if he hurt his father. Visions of his father laying under his bloody claws made Stiles' heart start to race, his chest to tighten as if in the beginning of a panic attack which he hadn't had in over two years.

Forcing his body to move, crawling across the hallway to the bathroom, Stiles pulled himself up to splash some water on his face as he struggled to get control of his emotions. The flash of blue from his reflection in the mirror caught his attention and Stiles stared, mouth agape, as his eyes flashed widely between his beta blue and human brown.

The taste of copper flooded his mouth as his teeth lengthened into fangs biting through his lower lip as his control slipped. His claws emerged leaving shallow gouges on the counter before he could pull away to drop to the edge of the tub, arms wrapped around his chest.

His skin crawled with the feeling that a thousand ants were marching along his flesh. The muscles beneath twitching and jumping randomly as Stiles tried to regain control but with every passing second the feeling that he is slipping becomes worse.

Dropping his head between his knees Stiles draws in deep breathes through his nose, letting them out in a long smooth stream out his mouth the way he was taught by his old therapist. Instead of the even release of air he was attempting, his breath came out in short heavy pants.

The thickening of his brow and the raspy feel of fur growing along his face didn't help the overwhelming fear that he was going to become a monster. That one night in the near future he would lose control and end up killing somebody.

"Please God, not my dad. Not Scott. I don't want to be a monster." Guilt for actions he had not yet performed caused his stomach to heave, rising acid bile up the back of his throat.

Flashes of scenes of death and slaughter filled his mind's eye: his dad's death, Scott's death, his own death and sequential downward spiral of health for his father when he found out that his son was a murderous monster. All these in more twisted down upon him until he was curled on the cold bathroom tile, body wracked with uncontrollable sobs.

Dragging his wits back and collecting what little reasoning he could muster in the mist of his panic attack, Stiles managed to stumble downstairs to find his phone. Trembling fingers punched out Scott's number. On the fifth ring, just before going to voice mail, Scott picks up.

"Hey, I'm with Allison. I'll talk to you tomorrow okay? Bye." The line went dead before Stiles' lips could even form the shape of a word.

Half blinded by tears, unwilling to call his father until it becomes his very last resort, Stiles staggered into the kitchen. The family contact list is stapled to the wall next to the refrigerator, his father's bold handwriting detailing all the important phone numbers for easy access. The newest number on the list is for the Hales.

Stiles dials the number and listens to it ring before realizing he doesn't even know what to say.

"Hale residence," answers a deep voice jolting Stiles out of his misery for a second as he wonders at the archaic greeting. Now that he has someone on the line, even an asshole like Derek Hale, Stiles finds that he can't force the words out of his mouth. The fear has closed off all sound leaving him gapping like a landed fish on his end of the line.

"Hello? Hello?" Stiles can hear the growing frustration in Derek's voice and starts to hang up, finger on the end button, when Derek asks, "Stiles? Stiles, what's wrong?"

"Derek, I don't know what to do. I think I'm losing control." Derek listened patiently to Stiles as he voiced his fears and without the snide comments that Stiles would have expected from him after their unpleasant encounter today. Finally winding down, his quavering voice broken occasionally by a slight hick-up Stiles, waits with trepidation for Derek's response.

"First off, you need to know that you have a pack, a pack that will keep you safe as well as those you love safe. We will be there for you to help you keep control of your shift so that you don't harm anyone else."

"But I was losing control. My eyes were flashing back and forth and my claws came out. That's not being in control."

"All wolves struggle with control of their features during times of stress. But it's just the way you look even at your worst tonight you would not have harmed your father."

Stiles nodded in agreement than realized that Derek couldn't see him and mumbled, "okay."

"The only time you will really have control issues is during the full moon which is still three weeks away. We will all help you through the moon's call until you are able to find your anchor. Once that happens you will be able to control yourself even during a full moon and after what I saw today that shouldn't take very long. Your control is already very good."

"So I'm an awesome werewolf?" Even to Stiles the joke sounded weak and flat. Derek huffed on the other end. Stiles tried again, this time with an honest feeling. "Thank you, Derek."

"That's what pack is for Stiles. To help each other through times of weakness. You should never feel bad when asking your pack for help."

Stiles sighed as he let his head drop back against the wall, he heart beat slowing back to its normal tempo as the fear he had felt eased.

"You're feeling better now." Derek states.

"How could you tell?"

"I can hear your heartbeat."

"You know that is just a little bit creepy."

"You'll get used to it."

"With the packs help. Thank you again Derek." Stiles let the call end feeling better but emotionally and physically worn out. Climbing the stairs he fell face first into his bed and dreamed.


	7. Chapter 7

_The full moon had already reached the highest point in the sky when Stiles began crossing the country side. The land passed by quickly under the steady pounding of his feet, carrying him across the fields and away from the simple country homes with their docile livestock until only the sound of the wild creatures remained. Stiles gave a wolf's grin at the running fuzz covered snacks as he passed them by. Chasing them would be fun but tonight he had better things to do._

_The forest ahead was so thick with trees that from a distance it looked like on continuous mass of life. As he closed in he could make out the hidden, invisible gaps between the greenery that allowed entrance into the mysterious depths. Without slowing Stiles leapt through an opening and increased his speed._

_The forest was filled with even more sounds; mice scampering for safety, birds of prey lofting from branch to branch, and in the distance, the sound of pack. Howls filled the night air their chorus calling him to their side, the echoes rebounding and building as Stiles ran on._

_With each stride he flung up rich earth filling the air around him with the scents of the forest, rich and deep, every instinct telling him he was home. The sound of water, crashing and flowing in the distance, caught his attention, his senses pulling him quickly toward the sound._

_Moments later, he arrived at the bank of a clear river, the far bank hidden by mists and darkness. Stiles placed on paw in the cool swirl of the water and lowered his head to lap at the liquid._

_As he raised his head he found himself muzzle to muzzle with a light grey wolf, humor filling her bright red eyes and a wide grin splitting her muzzle in two. Her yip of laughter filled the night as Stiles startled backwards and landed tail first in the shallow waters. She shouldered him backwards, tilting him over until he splashed completely in the shallows of the river. Stiles stretched out his neck, resting his nose on the bank and offered the alpha his throat._

_With a gentle nip and a lick to his muzzle she accepted him and darted away, indicating with a glance over her shoulder that he should follow. A quick roll and some thrashing had Stiles back on his feet and he trotted after her shaking the water from his fur as he went._

_The alpha ran through the woods with Stiles at her side. Soon there were other shapes as well. Twin midnight black wolves joined the run falling into place on either side of Stiles, as well as a huge male with tawny fur and a streak of white on his nose and paw, a lithe female with red tips on her guard hairs, and a sly tan wolf that seemed to enjoy tripping the pack as they ran._

_Stiles' chest swelled. This was pack. This was family. This was home. _

_And they ran._

_The pack was flowing through the woods when the moon turned blood red and another howl filled the night's sky, bringing clouds that blocked the moon's glow and a chill the iced the tips of Stiles' fur. Ahead, through a break in the trees stood a solitary alpha, his enormous form looming above them as he stood on his two hind legs stretching into a monstrous humanoid shape. Clawed hands were clinched in fists at his side as he roared at the full moon over head. _

_A block of ice formed in Stiles' chest as a force yanked him forward toward the werewolf. Immediately his pack surrounded him pressing their noses into his fur and resting their heads along his side. Their protection helping him to fight the waves of pain that wracked his body as the alpha let out another how._

_Stiles whined, his claws digging into the earth as he struggled backwards against the pull from the alpha. Another howl filled the night, this time from the red eyed wolf at his side, this howl was different, filled with defiance and strength as if daring the strange new wolf to try and harm either Stiles or her pack. With his pack at Stiles' side, he fought until he wrestled free of the phantom grip, turning and running once free as his pack guarded his flank and his alpha kept watch._

_No longer were the woods a place of enchantment. Branches tangled and pulled at his fur, roots snapped at his paws and sent him tumbling downward until…_

THUMP!

Landing face first on the carpet, Stiles woke up with a start. The blankets and sheets forming a tangled knot around his knees wrapping themselves around his feet, he had even managed to get his left arm twisted in his pillow, scattering feathers around the room. The cloud of stuffing floating down around him looked a little like snow so he decided to take a minute, now that the nightmare was over, to just enjoy the insanity that was his life.

"Stiles!" his dad bellowed from downstairs. "If you don't get you butt in gear you will be late for school. You have five minutes before you need to be out the front door. Don't make me come up there and drag you out of bed."

"I'm already out of bed dad," Stiles yelled back. "Well almost, "he finished quietly. Rolling to his feet Stiles found the nearest pile of clean looking clothes and pulled them on. Taking a quick whiff and, when he detected no foul odors on the clothing, he figured he was good to go.

Stiles scrambled down the first half of the stairs and then jumped the last section landing just in front of his father who apparently decided to yell up the stairs again.

"Jesus son, you're going to give me a heart attack. And considering how hard you try to keep me from eating anything that's supposed to be bad for me, it would really be a shame."

"Sorry dad." Stiles smiled and briefly fought the urge to smell his father. He gave in after an awkward moment of staring by hugging the sheriff close as he tucked his chin into the flesh of his father's shoulder.

"Stiles?" His father's voice took on an edge of worry that Stiles didn't want to try to explain away. So he improvised.

"So now that I'm tutoring Alex Hale my curfew has been lifted, right? No more 'in bed before dark' for me."

His dad's shoulders eased immediately. If there was anything his father was used to dealing with was his son's sneaky ways. "Not quite yet, you still have a curfew. Giving the old man a hug isn't going to get you out of this punishment." Smiling his father patted him on the back. "You need to call me when you're getting ready to leave the Hale House and if I am working late you will call me as soon as you get home. No pit stops or side trips. Straight home or I will have to tell Maria that you can't Alex, but if this goes will I may consider lightening your sentence, but don't get your hopes up."

Stiles accepted his dad's ribbing with a smile and hurried off to school with an apples and a slice of peanut butter toast to tide him over until lunch. He was half way to Scott's house in his old blue jeep before he remembered that his friend was planning on getting to school early that day.

There had been excuses of missing work and make up exams but Stiles didn't need to be a werewolf to know that Scott's real reason was more about dark ebony locks, cocoa colored eyes, and the ability to make his friends heart skip a beat than school work.

His jeep jerked to a halt in his usual spot, Stiles began searching the school yard for Scott, hoping to find him in one of their regular spots with no luck. Pulling out his phone he sent a quick text and waited for a reply.

Nothing.

Sighing Stiles walked slowly toward the front of the school scuffing the toes of his shoes as he went until he caught a hint of a familiar scent. Following it he found the two love birds tucked behind a tree. Scott was curled next to Alison, the scent of his lust so strong that Stiles actually had to take a step back, sneezing into the crook of his arm and shaking his head. Stiles briefly contemplated calling out to his best friend and reaming him out about ditching his lifelong buddy over a girl he hadn't even known a week but decided to take the high ground instead.

Stupid Scott didn't even know what an awesome friend he had. He was glad that Scott had found a girlfriend but no matter how close of friends they were there were some things Stiles didn't need to find out at eight in the morning. Scott's new sex life topped that list.

Deep in thought over his abandonment and potential co-dependency issues, Stiles was in his own little world, and not watching where he was going until he crashed into a tall, firm line of muscular flesh. Before he knew it he was reaching out and catching the boy almost ballroom style to keep the human from falling down. Stiles caught a whiff of conflicting scents wafting off the boy as his cheeks flushed and his eyes dilated until there was just a thin pewter ring around the dark center.

The quick hitch of breath between gritted teeth as well as the deep red blush covering the boy's features and a slight trace of musk in the air alerted Stiles to the possibility that this may not be the best way to keep another man from falling on his ass. The impact with the floor would probably have been better than the salsa dip in the middle of the hallway he thought to himself as he released the taller boy to the sound of catcalls and the whistles of their peers.

"Crap, sorry about that. I wasn't paying enough attention and I really didn't want you to fall. I'm sure you didn't plan to start your day with a tango in the middle of the hallway." Looking up Stiles remembered seeing the same boy from the day before. Isaac something or other from one of his classes.

"It's fine." The lanky boy said as he turned and hurried off in the other direction. As he left Stiles couldn't help but notice the way he held his arm, the arm he had just grabbed with his super werewolf strength to keep him from falling.

"Hey, are you okay? I didn't hurt you did I? I don't seem to know my own strength lately," Stiles babbled as he caught up to Isaac who just nodded his head and kept walking, eyes glued to the floor in front of him.

Stiles realized that he needed to get to class when he picked up an unfamiliar scent in the air. Looking around to make sure no one was watching he sniffed the air as discreetly as possible, the last thing he needed was to get a reputation for being the weird kid that walked up to people and sniffed them in the hallway. The smell, he discovered, was coming from Isaac.

Sadly one of the perils of being a two day old werewolf is that he can barely even use his new senses, much less understand what they are trying to tell him. But when Stiles sees the boy cradling his arm the wolf in him doesn't care and surges forward with the need to protect and shelter a boy he hardly knows.

Jogging to catch up, Stiles asks, "Hey did I hit your arm earlier, you seem a bit shaken up." He smiles trying to meet Isaac's eye but the boy refuses to look up from the floor.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about it." Isaac mumbled before picking up speed and practically running down the hall.

Realizing he didn't have time to try and make sense out of what was going on with Isaac, Stiles decided he needed to just head to class before the bell rang. With any luck he could pull out his phone during study hall and get Alex to fill him in on smells 101.

Students jostled and bumped him on their way to class, their scents and heartbeats suddenly overworking his new wolf senses. The high pitched 'mosquito' ring tone on someone's phone just about drove him to his knees. He clutched his head until the demon device was located in a back pocket and blissfully silenced with a pouty "what?"

Grateful that his ears weren't bleeding, Stiles hurried on to class. It isn't until he sits down in his normal seat, and finds the one next to him abandoned once again, Scott having migrated to the back to sit next to Allison. Stiles turned to glare at his stupid best friend. Scott never even looked his way he just continued to nuzzle his way into Allison's hair. Between deciding whether he needed to continue the death stare or to start bleaching his eyes Stiles noticed the he could still smell Isaac as if her were standing right next to him.

He ponders the wonderful world of werewolf senses for just a second before a soft voice asks, "hey do you mind if I sit here?" Isaac is standing by Stiles table shifting from side to side, clearly uncomfortable.

"Yeah, sure. When did you switch classes?" At least the mystery of the lingering scent had be answered Stiles thought.

"I didn't. Scott just took my seat next to the new girl and doesn't seem to be able to tear himself away so I'm stuck without a place to sit."

"Wait you're in this class? Really?" Stiles knew he must look like a fish out of water with his mouth hanging open but he really had no idea that he and Isaac shared more than one class together. "I need to pay more attention because I swear I've never seen you here before."

Isaac hummed a small non-committal sound. "You and Scott are just really close. You're usually too busy joking around with him to notice anything. I've always been amazed that you could pass much less make straight A's."

At Stiles' easy chuckle at the joke, Isaac slipped into the seat next to him with a shy smile. They chatted back and forth while waiting for the bell, Stiles amused by the taller boy's quiet wit. By the time class started they had laid the foundation of a new friendship.

Stiles tried to pay attention in English, really he did, but he couldn't fathom how boring it must have been in the 1600's for a sonnet to have been such a popular form of entertainment. Really, how many sonnets did one guy need to write?

After his third time pounding his head onto the desk to try and keep himself awake all it took was Isaac's playful nudge for Stiles' to finally pick up on what his subconscious wolf had been trying to tell him. The scent was faint to the point of not even existing. If it wasn't for the fact that Isaac was sitting right next to him, he would never have pieced together just what it was he was smelling.

Looking down at Isaac's arm, Stiles could see the beginning of a new bruise forming. The thickening copper smell emanating from it prickled at his nose and made Stiles want to lick Isaac better. And that was a slightly disturbing though about a guy he had just met.

This wasn't the scent of blood out of the body, exposed to oxygen, no it was the smell of blood under the skin, pooling beneath the surface as the body slowly healed itself around it. Startled, Stiles realized that he was smelling more than just one bruise on Isaac's body.

His gasp of comprehension and surprise was masked by the ringing of the bell. He watched as Isaac, a small smile gracing his features, gathered up his supplies and headed out the door. "I'll see you in Chem. If you need a partner because Scott is attached at the hip you can come sit by me."

Stiles gathered up his books, caught the strap of his backpack around the leg of his chair, dragging it half way up the aisle before realizing, and then tripped over his own two feet. Isaac was out the door and out of sight before he untangled himself from straps and chairs to the laughter of the next class. So much for super werewolf grace he mentally grumbled on the way out the door.

Scott is dreamily trying to open the wrong locker by the time he gets down the hall. Pushing his friend over one Stiles tries to bring up the events of the last few days. "Dude, I really need to talk to you about something."

"She invited me to dinner at her house this weekend! With her parents! That's big right? A girl wanting you to meet her parents means she really likes you and I'm not sure if I should dress up in a suit or just wear a nice shirt. Do I need a tie? God, what if they don't like me and refuse to let Allison date me anymore."

Stiles listened to the ramblings of his love struck friend with a combination of amusement and disgust. "Don't wear a suit it will look like you are trying too hard. A nice shirt would be best and of course they'll like you. Now could you focus for a second, I need to talk to you about something important."

"What about the blue shirt that mom bought for me when my grandparents came to town."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Sounds perfect. Can you come over later tonight? I'm tutoring after practice but I will be home after dinner. I really need to talk to you. Scott, its important."

"Sure. After dinner. I wonder if I should bring flowers." Scott grabbed his algebra text. Stiles opened his mouth to tell the love struck idiot that he didn't have math until after lunch but snapped it shut at the last second. It wasn't like Scott would be paying attention in class no matter what book he was carrying.

The rest of the day went at a normal, if just the slightest bit enhanced by his super wolf senses flavoring the sights and smells around him, for the rest of the day. Fifth period had the four of them together again. Scott and Allison made an immediate bee-line toward each other. Stiles could almost hear the flowery romantic music in the background as they slow motioned walked into each other's orbit and snuggled happily at a lab table together.

"We have such chemistry," Scott whispered.

"OH MY GOD!" Stiles let his head drop to the table top. At this moment he was ready to disown his best friend for shear lameness.

"Looks like we're partners today." Isaac sat down and smiled at the back of Stiles' head. "What's wrong?"

"My best friend is making bad romantic puns back there. I might just have to throw myself on my number two pencil to escape the horror of it all."

"He can't be that bad." Isaac turned and watched the two for a second. "Nope, I'm so very wrong. It can be that bad with a heaping side of so much worse. They are using the periodic table to spell out cutsie words to each other. I swear I used to think you were the weird one."

"Oh, ha ha ha. Thank you for the wonderful comedic relief." Stiles leaned just slightly toward his new friend trying to pick up the copper smells he had scented before. The reek of old chemicals in the lab made it hard for him to pin-point and specific smells even with Isaac sitting next to him.

Their surprisingly easy banter between them was cut short by the arrival of Harris, chemistry teacher extraordinaire and hater of all things Stiles. His eyes landed on Stiles for a second and he could just feel the waves of hatred pouring off the teacher.

Class is an utter nightmare. The lab involves the mixing of chemicals that, at least to Stiles' new senses, release a noxious smell. Doubled over with his hoodie pressed against his nose to relive the burning in his nose, Stiles spends most of the period coughing and gagging.

"Mr. Stiliniski, if you are set on continuing these dramatic outbursts I will be forced to send you to another round of detention. Are we clear?"

"Yes," Stiles manages to gasp. He's lucky that Isaac seems to know what he is doing and the lab is finished before the last of his nose hairs are singed away by the smell.

Stiles managed to make it through chemistry without a detention slip and Isaac was quickly moving into position to replace Scott as his new best friend. Stiles eyed his soon – to – be – ex-best friend as he left the class arm in arm with Allison.

"Dude, are you growling?" Stiles pushed past the nameless student and headed off to his favorite part of the school day – lunch.

Sitting down at his regular seat Stiles was surprised to find Isaac hovering next to his chair. "Can I join you?"

"The more the merrier. It's usually just Scott and me at this table." The words were no sooner out of his mouth than Alex flopped into the seat across from him. "And Alex. Apparently Alex is sitting here now as well."

Scott drifted over with Allison in tow and sat next to Alex, giving Stiles a goofy grin before turning his attention back to completely focus on Allison. When Lydia, Jackson, and Danny join his table as well, Stiles almost fell out of his seat. Somehow, within one school day he had gone from bottom of the food chain to a top predator. It was almost as shocking as discovering he was a werewolf.

Stiles had spent the last five years of his school life sitting at a table talking to Scott. Now he found himself crammed between some of the most popular students in the school. They weren't talking to him but they were still at the same table.

With his arm looped around Allison's waist and his attention focused on her every word, Scott barely acknowledged Stiles' presence but with Isaac and Alex at the table he didn't even miss his friend's easy banter. Alex and Isaac liked the same things, played the same games, and even laughed at Stiles' jokes. It was quickly becoming his best lunch ever.

Stiles was in the middle of a humorous story about his epic bench warming skills when Scott finally joined the conversation. "I'm planning on making first line this year. If you want to get off the bench you really need to start practicing more.

"Hey, we could practice after you tutor me in math today. Derek was the captain of lacrosse back when he was in high school. I'm sure he could give you a pointer or two."

"Make that a tip or dozen and he might have a chance." Stiles decided that he liked it better when Jackson pretended he didn't exist.

Scott looked like he was going to say something but Allison chose that moment to gather her lunch, mostly uneaten, and leave. Hopping on one foot to untangle himself from the bench, Scott followed quickly.

"I gotta go. Thanks for letting me sit with you today. Maybe tomorrow too?"

"Obviously. It's nice to have people here who actually laugh at my jokes." Stiles couldn't help wonder, as his new friend gathered his tray, what was the cause of the bruises he smelled covering the boy's body. Not knowing a way to bring it up that didn't make him sound like a total creeper, Stiles decided to keep a closer eye on the blond for the next couple of days.

As Isaac took off, Stiles was left with just Alex and Jackson and Lydia who seemed attached together at the end of the table completely ignoring Stiles and the rest of the world.

"Hey," Alex leaned over the table to whisper. "You might want to hold off on lacrosse until you get a better control over your shift. It's easy to lose control during physical activities especially when aggression is involved."

"I'm always sitting on the bench so that should be a problem." Stiles faint twinge of unease as the words left his mouth but it brushed it off and moved on with his day.

It wasn't until practice started and coach immediately sent him off to face Jackson on the field that Stiles remembered his 'mad skills' from the day before. Seeing the fury behind the jock's blue eyes makes Stiles hesitate for just a moment, long enough for Jackson to get his net on the first ball, shoulder past him and sprint down the field towards the goal.

Jackson moves with a leopards grace, feral and sinuous, dodging defenders and sending the ball screaming toward the goal. "You have to move your feet, Bilinski! Plants don't play lacrosse."

Stiles catches the movement out the corner of his eye and manages to dodge the smack to the back of his helmet that Jackson was aiming for with the back of his stick. "Way to play, BILINSKI!" Jackson's sarcasm cut deep. "I knew yesterday was a fluke."

Stiles was more centered in the next face off, clamping the ball under his stick and tossing it to Scott before rolling away from Jackson. He enjoyed to look of surprise on the jock's face as his body twisted away and he stepped into the clear, running down the field.

Scott tossed the ball back to Stiles who by-passed the defenders with ease to even the score. Some of the pats to his back were a little heavy handed but Stiles enjoyed the moment. It was nice to have his teammates see him as something besides comic relief.

"Have you been practicing without me?" Scott's features switched between betrayed hurt and anger. It didn't help that one of their teammates overheard and laughed "he doesn't need it like you do McCall."

"No! I haven't been practicing at all except for, well, practice but you are there too so it's not practicing without you."

"It should be interesting to see who gets the position on first line this year." Scott said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Stiles felt betrayed. Had their situations been reversed he would have been happy for Scott, done everything he could to help him succeed.

By the end of the third play Stiles realized that not only was Scott not happy about his sudden success in lacrosse, he was actively trying to undermine him. Scott missed the next ball toss, an easy lob directly aimed at his net, allowing Jackson's team to score again.

Stiles could feel his heart rate rising, the sepia tones seeping into his vision warning him that he was losing control of his shift. On the next play he didn't even bother trying to dodge Jackson's aggressive drive down the middle of the field, just let blond slam into him with all the anger the human felt.

Stiles fell backwards, legs and hips lifting as he slid across the damp grass. The field was quiet for a second as he lay still. "Stiles!" Scott cried as he ran for his downed friend. "Don't move, okay? You need to be still."

"I'm okay, Scott. Let me up."

"No you need to stay still until Coach looks you over."

Stiles ignored his friend's demands and slowly sat up. "See? I'm fine." He allowed his friend to pull him to his feet and wrap an arm around his waist. Danny and a few of his other teammates followed him back to the bench and let him sit while they hovered around.

"Now you can all see why I prefer the bench," Stiles joked. "It's much safer."

And it was, Stiles thought as his teammates laughed. It was safer for them. He had come so close to losing it and shifting. He could have hurt someone and that was a thought that sent cold shivers up his spine.

Looking out across the field he saw Alex Hale watching him. He shrugged his shoulders at the younger man as if to say 'you were right' before dropping his head down to lean against the head of his stick.

Practice couldn't have ended any sooner. Scott had redoubled his efforts on the field as Stiles sat on the bench and looked on in growing horror. His friend wasn't just bad, he was terrible, horrible, there were no words created that could define the shear ineptitude of Scott on the field.

Stiles did his due diligence as a best friend by yelling out encouraging words and cheering but he felt as if he was cheering for the Titanic, Scott was going down. At least he would have company on the bench again this season.

At the end of practice Stiles hurried into the locker room to shower and change. Scott, depressed and down trodden, had little to say until Stiles brought up the subject of Allison.

"Maybe you should call her and offer to share your notes so that she's prepared for the test later this week."

Scott perked up like a dog smelling a bone, eyes bright and alert. "I could do that. Then we could study together." As quickly as he face had brightened it dropped to a sad frown. "My notes are crap though, I've been kinda distracted."

"You can take mine. Just don't lose them." With that simple exchange of a notebook, Stiles was once again in Scott's good graces. With a happy thump to Stiles' back Scott bounced out the door to call Allison.

Gathering the rest of his belongings Stiles headed to the parking lot where Alex was waiting. "You need to be careful on the field. Your control is really good for a new wolf but aggression will bring out the wolf in all of us."

Letting out a huff of air as he opened his door and reached over to let Alex in the passenger side, Stiles gave the young wolf a sad smile. "I almost lost it out there. I don't want to hurt my friends or teammates. Hell, I don't even want to hurt Jackson, at least not yet."

"We'll help. That's what a pack is for. Don't worry Stiles, your control will get better and once it does, if you want to, you can play on the team and not worry about hurting anyone. Just not yet."

They rode the rest of the way in relative silence, Alex playing with the radio and singing along to the music. As he approached the Hale house Stiles could feel a loosening in his chest as if tension he didn't even realize he was holding in was released. The happy keen that came out of his mouth took him by surprise.

"Its pack," smiled Alex, picking up on Stiles' upbeat mood. "You're starting to feel the pack."

Following Alex up the stairs and into the warm house Stiles is struck by the smells of dinner as if they were a physical force. Rocking back on his heels, then forward on his toes, he allowed his eyes to close as he took in deep breathes of the heavenly scents that filled the room.

When he opened his eyes it was to find Derek staring right at him, mouth slightly open and a flash of blue highlighting his eyes. "It's amazing," sighed Stiles.

"Yeah," agreed Derek with a slightly roughened voice.

"Boys, come eat." Maria's voice, soft spoken as it was, carried throughout the house. Stiles was the first to stumble into the kitchen having pushed past Derek to get there. The table was covered with an enormous amount of food, mainly meat. Seeing the shocked expression on his face Maria laughed gently. "Werewolves tend to burn off more calories. You need to eat more, especially protein if you want to keep your wolf happy."

Always ready to eat, Stiles flopped down in the nearest chair and reached for a roll only to have his hand slapped away by Laura. "Alpha's first," she growled.

Stiles shot a quick glance at Maria whose eyes were just the slightest red. "You need to learn your table manners, dear."

"Yes, mam," Stiles mumbled as a flush stole up his neck and spread across his face.

Once Maria sits and takes the first portion the rest of the pack digs into the spread set before them. Stiles is amazed at how fast the food is devoured and finds himself pleasantly full, surrounded by pack, discussing the events and trials of the day.

The evening ends too soon. Driving toward his house with a warm feeling in his chest, Stiles realizes that he has been lonely for years. It had been just his father for so long that he had forgotten what a family was really like. It was nice to be a part a pack.


	8. Chapter 8

Even in his sleep Stiles fights the pull of the alpha. The sire bond, weekend by his new loyalty to Maria's pack, tugs at his wolf none the less. His heart, his mind, and even his soul are being called toward the alpha. Insistent whispers that he belongs to the alpha and somewhere deep inside, his instincts tell him to roll over and agree, inside him the wolf's loyalty is torn. But his human side, the stubborn pride that all Stilinski men possess, has attached to loyalty to the Hale Pack and that, combined with the strength his pack provides him, is enough to allow him to push back against the call of the Alpha and pull himself from the blood soaked dream.

Jerking up from sweat covered sheets Stiles examines the clock on his dresser, the red lights reading 3:12. "Stupid werewolves," he mutters, tucking his head back onto the pillow, desperate to push away the far too real images lurking in the back of his mind.

He tries to wipe the images by thinking of pleasant things; the shine of Lydia's reddish locks in the sunlight, the day Harris tripped while walking down the aisle and face planted at his feet, and the soft smile on Derek's face that he tried to hide. But the visions from the nightmare soon superimpose themselves, forcing back his happy thoughts and drenching his daydreams in blood.

"Ugh, screw it," he sighs, getting up and reluctantly going over what little he remembers. There was a lot of blood, that much he's sure. Not to mention the screams, the voices pulling him along a blood soaked trail leading down and away from a pair of benches and a small swing set.

The image was so familiar. The memory just tickled at the back of his mind playing tag with him as he tried to remember. Somehow he knew it was important, something vital. Closing his eyes he tries to visualize it again and suddenly his wolf pushes to the forefront and takes control. The wolf moves through his memories pulling up scents and sounds that his human self had never been aware. The swings were newer in his memory and the smell of lavender and cookie dough filled his nostrils.

His mother! Suddenly remembering the park, recognizing it as the one his mother used to take him to when he was a little boy. Needing to see and confirm it for himself Stiles jumps out of bed, pulls on some clothing and rushes out the door into the night.

His jeep starts with a single smoky cough and Stiles is on his way. Reaching the park he can smell the scent of blood before he even opens the door. His senses combine as his nose and eyes reveal the hidden side of the park, zeroing in on the blood trail. Stiles quickly follows it beyond the thinly wooded edge of the park where he finds the mangled body of an older man, if the tangled remains can ever be called a man, looking somewhere in his thirties. His stomach rolls at the sight of a person being turned into so much raw meat.

His phone is out and dialing 9-1 before he stops to think about just how he plans on explaining this to his dad. It's not like he has a solid reason as to why he was out at the park in the middle of the night. And if he tries to spin a story about his reason he'll only end up being labeled as suspect number one. That would be a heartache his father didn't need on top of all the other crap that came with by being Stiles' father.

Sick with helplessness, knowing that even an anonymous call could be traced back to his phone, he starts to back away hoping to find a pay phone so that he can call in the murder. But before he can get more than a few feet away from the body he hears a low rumbling from the left of the bench. He has barely enough time to turn and see a flash of red before being driven to the ground by the alpha, its teeth buried deep into his shoulder.

Between the teeth in his shoulder and the weight pressing down on him, Stiles collapses backwards onto the ground. He has just enough time to prepare for the inevitable when a half remembered lesson on self-defense his father had insisted he take years ago bursts into his mind. Forcing himself to go limp and allowing his body to curve inwards, his legs tucking in against the snarling mass above him, and combining their momentum and weight into the kick, Stiles sends the werewolf flying over his head.

Quickly rolling to his feet he starts to run, not bothering to look back at where the alpha may have landed his nose and ears telling him everything he needs to know. The crunch of leaves alerts him to the alpha's gaining presence and the smell of rage burned at his delicate nostrils.

Running for the swing set he immediately grabs the chains, spins them behind him causing them to weave erratically and catch the pursuing wolf, thankfully buying him a brief second of time. But he knows that in a battle against an alpha, every second was the difference between making it back home or ending up another body lying beyond the tree line.

The metal screamed behind him as the swing set broke apart and the pipe structure went sailing over his head, the chain trailing behind and catching him on the ear. Letting the shift take him, Stiles leaps on top of the bouncy bridge and dove into tunnel slide at the end. He could hear the alpha behind him trapped in the entrance, his shoulders to wide to fit through a narrow opening. Stiles was through, down the slide and running for his jeep by the time the alpha tore himself free.

With a roar and the sound of tearing metal, the alpha ripped the upper part of the playground off and hurled it at the back of Stiles' head. Hearing the sound of whistling steel, Stiles has just enough time to throw himself on the ground of the picnic area, diving under a table.

Using his new werewolf strength, Stiles grabs hold of the table and twists, hoping for a make shift shield. Unfortunately only half a rotting board came off in his hand. The alpha's lips begin to curl, revealing the sharp curve of his fangs, in what can only be called a smirk before slowly stalking over to where Stiles was cowering beneath the tattered bench.

The wail of sirens split the silence of the night causing the wolves to flinch as the sounds hit their ears. Letting out a massive roar the alpha turns, launching himself into the forest and away from the noise.

For just a moment Stiles stands in place, his blood dripping down his arm. With the sirens coming closer he has no choice but to get in his jeep and run. He fumbles with the door, his hand unwilling to work the latch. Switching to his left hand and ignoring the bloody streaks left on his handle Stiles lurches into the jeep and drives away, turning the corner just as the first headlights from the police cars can be seen down the road.

He drives away slowly hoping he won't attract attention to his jeep, a car far too familiar to the officers of Beacon Hills. Looking at the still gaping wound on his shoulder Stiles knows there is no way he can explain this to his father.

His shoulder, refusing to heal, continues to seep blood and coats his shirt with its warmth. He's half way home before he realizes that it's the last place he needs to be while healing from the alphas attack. A sudden reluctance to go to the Hale house for help startles him so much that he pulls the jeep over to the curve.

He knows that he's now pack. So why the sudden fear, the twisting in his gut telling him to beware? Closing his eyes he follows it, trying to see where the unease is coming from. His wolf feels the pull of pack as well as the pull of his former alpha. His bond alpha, even after attacking him seems to be trying to use his influence to control Stiles' actions.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, Stiles starts the jeep and swings around toward the Hale house. As he nears his destination he can feel the itching and stretching as his wolfie healing tries to close the wound.

The drive is agonizing. His nerves have him jumping at every shadow along the side of the road, each flash of reflective metal making him see alphas in the darkness. Lights from approaching cars make him twinge, worrying that the next one will be his father on patrol or one of his deputies that are not above pulling over the sheriff's son at 'oh God o'clock' in the morning.

His shoulder feels as if an entire anthill of furious insects have started crawling and biting their way up and down his upper arm. From the curve of his neck to right above his elbow his skin flickered and twitched as if trying to work it's self-free from the constraints of the muscles below it, the blood finally having stopped pouring from the wound.

By the time he pulls in front of the Hale house Stiles is panting, breathes coming and going in quick bursts that did little to bring oxygen into his lungs. Stiles feels the pounding of his heart in the temples and his hands spasm with each thump.

The jeep seems almost at home parked next to the sleek black Camaro that Stiles can't help but pet as he stumbles out the door, his feet crunching on the gravel. His shoulder, though healing, is still raw and burning red. But there's no way for him to know if his slow healing is because he is a new wolf or if it's because the alpha bit him, but he knows, the wolf snarling with the knowledge, that he should be healing faster.

The shadows consolidate into human form and suddenly Derek is by his side, arm wrapping itself around his waist as he steers the wounded beta up the stairs and into the house.

"What happened?" Derek's growl is soft, almost sub-vocal, a thing to be felt and not heard. "I could smell the blood from the house, what idiot thing did you do this time?"

"I thought you were supposed to take pity on someone wounded? I figured you would play nurse maid for me." Stiles says with a frown. "I gotta say your bedside manner sucks."

"Stiles!" This growl was meant to be heard and it sent nesting birds flapping skyward at the edge of the woods. "What happened?" Derek dragged Stiles the last few feet into the house letting the door slam shut behind them.

"I may or may not have decided to go to the park after I had a dream about the alpha murdering someone," Stiles confesses as they make their way towards the kitchen. "And there's a small chance that the alpha was still there. I'd go on but I think we both know how things went from there and honestly my shoulder really hurts. And your claws in my side aren't helping."

Derek pushes Stiles into a chair at the kitchen table and turns to glare at him, eyebrows lost in his dark hair that, product-less, had fallen forward across his brow. "Fucking moron!"

"Derek! You know better than to use that kind of language in the house." Maria walked calmly into the kitchen as if tending to bleeding guests in the middle of the night was a normal occurrence in the Hale house. Although considering they are werewolves, thought Stiles, it just might be.

"You know, I thought with being a werewolf and all meant that I didn't have to deal with this kinda stuff anymore? What happened to my super wolfie healing?"

Maria poured milk into a pot over the stove letting Derek deal with the young wolf. "Damn it Stiles," Shooting at look over at his mother, Derek almost visibly adjusts his language. "Just because you can heal doesn't mean you get to be reckless whenever you feel like it."

"Well, duh." Stiles rolled his eyes at the older beta and tried to ignore how his chest expanded as he sucked in an annoyed breath. "You think I don't know that?"

"Did you also happen to know that wounds from an alpha werewolf don't heal as fast? Stiles wounds like that could take hours to heal at best."

Maria joined Stiles at the table placing a steaming cup of cocoa in front of each boy before taking a sip over her own. Derek glared down at Stiles for a moment more, until a raised eyebrow from his mother had him quickly slipping into his seat.

So that's where he learned that trick, Stiles thought.

Maria waited until Stiles had his first sip of the dark, rich chocolate before cuffing him gently on the back of the head. "You need to stop worrying your pack by coming home hurt all the time, pup. No good comes from acting like an idiot."

"It's not like I go looking for trouble."

Maria and Derek both raise identical eyebrows as his heart skips a beat with his lie.

"I had a dream. It was so real that I could smell and taste the blood. This guy was trying to scream but he couldn't because his throat was partially crushed. I could see him pleading with his eyes as his face turned blue and then…" Stiles found he couldn't continue, the embarrassing prickle of tears burning at his eyes.

Derek placed one hand on the back of his chair, his thumb touching Stiles' neck while Maria rested her hand on his knee and leaned in close to arch her head over his shoulder. It wasn't a human embrace, it was wild and primal, a comfort to both the wolf and the young man.

"When is your father off shift?" Maria's voice made him want to curl in her lap, rest his head against her knee like he did with his mother so long ago.

"Not until late morning."

"Then you'll stay here for the night. I'm sure we can find some of Derek's old clothes for you to wear tomorrow until you get home. I'll wake you up a little early so you and Alex won't be late."

Maria's words didn't seem like an order but he couldn't imagine himself not doing as she asked and began following Derek up the stairs and into an extra bedroom before he could even form a reply. He was half way asleep before he was even in the bed, tumbling the last few feet as Derek pulled off his Converse and tucked a light blanket around his sleeping form.


	9. Chapter 9

"Ugh….There is absolutely NO reason someone should be awake before the sun is even up." Stiles thought as Alex bounces him awake. "And they shouldn't be so perky either," he grumbled to himself. The young wolf finally took pit after the seventh bounce and flopped down next to him with a smile that could have replaced his nightlight, not that he still uses his batman nightlight or anything.

"Come on, you need to get up." Alex chuckled as he lifted the corner of the pillow Stiles was trying to hide under. "Mom's making breakfast and we still need to get you home so you can changes. Unless you want to go to school in Derek's old hand-me-downs. And, dude, that's just not an option. My brother has totally crappy taste. It's some weird cross between psycho biker mass murderer and creepy homeless guy. I mean, I swear mom and Laura try but some people you just can't help."

"Oh my God. If I get up will you promise to stop being so cheerful at crap o'clock in the morning?" Stiles tossed off the pillow, aiming at Alex's head and kicked the covers. Rolling out of bed, he took one step before the sheets tangled around his feet and sent him crashing face first to the floor.

Alex did a good job of muffling his laughter but the scent of amusement floated in the air. He could just imagine that if he was a cartoon character that there would be little lips flapping above his head as they giggled.

"Are you sure you're a werewolf?" Alex asked voice breathless with suppressed laughter.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks for asking. Falling on my face is a normal part of my morning routine." Ignoring the sounds of Alex losing his battle to hold back his amusement, Stiles stumbled across the hall and toward the bathroom.

He was through the door and halfway out of his shirt before he realized there was already someone in the bathroom. Being an only child Stiles had never really had to share a bathroom and didn't think twice about the fact that there might be someone in there before he walked through the door. At the last second he tried to reverse motions and pull the shirt back over his head but only managed to get partially stuck.

Assuming it was Derek, Stiles gave up after a brief struggle and pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it defiantly down to the floor. He had been working out and was now a werewolf. He wasn't going to let some brooding, eyebrow wielding, emotional knot of a werewolf give him chest envy. "Hey, sorry to barge in but I need to hurry," was what Stiles planned on saying to Derek.

That all changed when he found Laura naked in the shower. "Hey, sorry to – OH MY GOD! You have boobs!" He then tried to cover them with a wash cloth before turning and walking into the closed door behind him.

Fumbling with the knob he managed to smack himself in the head with the edge of the door before stumbling out of the bathroom and straight into Derek's arms. "What the hell are you doing, Stiles?"

"I was showering, I mean going to shower and then Laura has boobs and I grabbed…"

"You grabbed her while she was in the shower?" It wasn't a roar but it was close. Stiles backed away as he tried to explain.

"No! No grabbing. I'm mean there was grabbing but not boob grabbing there was cloth grabbing and covering. I was covering her with the wash cloth but it was kinda small and OH SHIT don't eat me!"

"What the hell did you do to my sister?" Derek growled inches from Stiles' throat. He had slammed the younger man into the hallway wall before he had even finished begging for his life. Blue eyes glowed in the dim light as his breath coasted along Stiles' collar bone making his skin prickle and tingle.

Somewhere in the back of Stiles' mind he knew he should be scared, terrified even but all he could think of was: 1) God, that was A LOT of chest under the thin black t-shirt that separated his hands from Derek's chest 2) God he wanted to push it up over Derek's head and lick it.

Australian Stiles, you know because he's down below, made his rising interest known at the worst moment. Derek leaned closer, most likely to make another death threat, and brushed his hips against Stiles. He froze eyes wide with shock for just a mere moment before they narrowed. Stiles couldn't fathom the mental twists and turns behind the look he received and was saved from having to try by the arrival of a towel wrapped Laura.

"Awe Derek, I'm flattered really but, I don't need you to defend my honor. If I was upset with Stiles' little unplanned invasion of my privacy I would have killed him myself. And really, he's going to have to get used to seeing some of us naked on occasion if he is going to run with the pack on a full moon. With a fond smile and a smack on the wet wash cloth to Derek's shoulder, she walked into her room letting the door swing shut behind her.

"Derek," called Maria from down the stairs. "Stop threatening the pack; if Stiles wants to fondle your sister one threat certainly won't be able to stop him." Derek's eyes flashed as he turned back to Stiles, looking like the harbinger of Death.

"No! No fondling of you sister. I don't want her. It's not that she not pretty, cause she is, ya know good genes and all but I don't want her that way cause I mean, dude, your sister is like OLD. Crap! Your mother said no killing your pack mates!"

Stiles could hear the laughter coming from Laura's room as well as from the kitchen downstairs. Great, he thought, I get to be the plucky comic relief in the Hale Pack.

"Derek let Stiles go. I need you to do one last check on his jeep to make sure we got all the blood out last night." A second later she added, "Alex, if you're not down in five minutes I'm giving all your bacon to Stiles."

"Oh my God," Stiles says as he slides down the wall. "I've never been so embarrassed. I think I'm going to be sick."

"Just hurry up," Derek growls looking down at him. A smirk slid across his face. "Oh, and Stiles?"

"Yeah?" Stiles answered timidly.

"Advertising that everything in your pants happens in a FLASH doesn't normally make boys popular." Derek says, indicating the red briefs with the yellow lightning bolts that were clearing visible over the waistband of his pants.

"I should've just let the alpha kill me."

The rest of the morning was less weird but considering he ate breakfast with a wolf pack that wasn't saying much. Stiles made it home before his Dad got off the night shift. He was dressed and heading downstairs as his father walked in the front door.

"Stiles." His dad smiled with tired eyes. "You're up early. I figured I would have to drag you out of bed this morning. I'll make us some breakfast and you can tell me how tutoring is going with Alex Hale."

"It's actually good dad. He's really not that bad in math."

"So basically you're telling me that you have a new gaming buddy." The sheriff smiled over his coffee at his son. "Maria is telling me lots of good things though so it seems to be working out. Are you planning on keeping it up?"

"Yeah Dad. I'm going to keep tutoring Alex for at least the rest of the school year." Stiles dropped his eyes to the eggs on his plate knowing that it would be longer than just the school year; it would be for the rest of his life. He had more than just a father now, he had a pack.

Stiles finished his breakfast and helped his father with the dishes before heading out the door. He gave a casual wave to his dad as he trudged up the stairs to get a few hours of needed sleep.

The ride to campus was uneventful and quiet. Stiles was used to picking up Scott and not having a buddy to chat with about important issues like which Iron Man movie was the best made the ride to school a bit lonely.

He didn't see Scott in the hallway but his friend's scent, still heavy with lust and now mixed with a more feminine fragrance; let him know that Scott had been there recently. Grabbing his books, Stiles headed for first not looking forwards to another day of high school.

Sliding next to Isaac again he smiled and started to pick up the easy banter that they had shared from the previous day but Isaac barely looked at him as he said hello.

He sat with his lanky frame hunched over his desk as if trying to shrink into himself. Isaac had his limbs tucked tightly into his sides, taking up as little space as possible in his chair. It looked like he was trying to hide inside his own skin.

The scent of hidden copper fills Stiles nostrils, much stronger than it was the day before. Letting his pencil roll to the floor in order to lean closer to his new friend, Stiles took a careful sniff zeroing in on Isaac's left side where his elbow pressed protectively to his side.

"You okay?" Stiles asked as he straightened back up. He focused in on the sound of Isaac's heartbeat as he waited for the answer.

"Sure, I'm fine." Isaac replied but Stiles caught the up-tick of his heart as it skipped over the lie.

Wanting to get a better gage on the amount of damage Isaac had, Stiles let his pencil start to roll again but caught it before it fell, letting his elbow bump gently into Isaac.

The hiss and wince of pain was more than Stiles expected in reaction to such a minor brush. Whatever was wrong with Isaac it was more than just a little bruise.

"Sorry, sorry." Whispered Stiles as the bell rang. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay. Not your fault. I just took a bad hit in practice yesterday." Stiles didn't even need to listen to Isaac's heartbeat to know that was a lie, having decided to keep a closer eye on him during practice.

Isaac didn't take any hits on the field the day before because he had spent almost the entire practice, except for warm ups and the suicides, sitting on the bench.

The one time he had been on the field he had not been passed the ball once. He ran back and forth with his teammates until the whistle blew and coach switched him out and sent him back to the bench. He might have well been running track for all the ball play he saw during practice.

But before Stiles can ask more questions the teachers starts in on her lecture and he has to pretend to pay attention while his real focus shifts from the smell of copper and the strange waft of citrus that is coming off of Isaac. Fear, his instinct supplies.

When the bell rang Isaac was out the door before Stiles had time to even gather his belongings. He spent the day catching traces of Isaac's strange coppery and citrus smell all morning until he was once again sitting next to him in chemistry.

Scott was once again wrapped around Allison in the back of the classroom and didn't even notice Stiles as he walked in and waved. He didn't think Scott would notice is a giant man eating land shark came in and ate the class as long as Allison was by his side. His friend was in love. And an idiot.

Flopping down next to Isaac he gave him his best "trust me, I'm a good guy" smile and tried to pry more information out of him. "I don't remember you taking a hit yesterday. Was it Jackson? He can be a real dick sometimes."

"No it wasn't Jackson. I just fell hard on my side. It's not a big deal, just a bruise." The way Isaac continued to hold his side made Stiles worry that maybe it was more than just a bruise.

"Did you tell coach? You should have him look at it today." The citrusy smell intensified as he spoke and Isaac paled visibly.

"I'm fine," Isaac snarled scooting his chair a bit further away from Stiles'. "Just drop it, damn it."

"Is there a problem, gentlemen? I'm sure we could discuss it further in detention unless you would rather begin class."

"Sorry Mr. Harris,**" **they both mumbled under their breath as the dark haired teacher slunk down the aisle passing out papers. Funny how all the F's seemed so much bigger and brighter than the small sad A's that were almost hidden in the upper corner.

Stiles' paper sported a crooked B with the minus sign darkened with multiple strokes of the red pen. Isaac's paper had a bright, cheery F placed in the middle of the page. Shame and fear wafted off his new friend in a thick wave.

"Hey, don't worry." Stiles nudged Isaac with his shoulder being careful of his wounded side. "We can start studying together."

"My dad's going to beat the shit out of me." It took Stiles a minute to realize that there was no up-tick from that statement. Isaac wasn't lying or over exaggerating; he was being completely serious.

His knee started bouncing with nervous energy as Stiles tried to process what he had just learned. As the son of the sheriff, he knew the importance of evidence and 'I smelled the bruise and his heartbeat let me know he was telling the truth' would not hold water even with his father, who would be more than willing to take a leap of faith with his son.

Stiles knew he needed more proof, something that the officials would take seriously enough to really investigate. He had heard his father complain too many times about parents that had been investigated only to be cleared after a cursory home visit and then have the children hospitalized because of horrible beatings later. Stile didn't want to make it worse for Isaac by tipping his hand too soon.

Class ends before Stiles has any concrete plans. Isaac once again bolts out the door without saying goodbye leaving Stiles to watch his back with a worried frown.

"You okay?" Scott rested his hand on Stiles' shoulder and gave him a confused look. "Did you and Isaac get in a fight? Don't let it get to you, man. Not everyone can appreciate what a great friend you are at first. Give him some time."

"We didn't get in a fight. There's just something going on with him right now that I'm trying to help him with but he doesn't really want my help." Stiles followed Scott out of the room before adding, "Hey! Why would you think he didn't appreciate me? What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing Stiles. You're the best friend anyone could ever ask for." Stiles heard the lie on the first part as well as the unwavering truth of the second. He knew Scott loved him, would always be his brother but knowing that even he thought there was something that needed fixing, damn his ADHD, still stung.

The rest of the day seemed to fly by for once. Stiles' brain kept jumping between helping Isaac and how his best friend secretly wanted his brain to get fixed. It wasn't until lunch that he remembered the horror of the night before; the fight with the alpha, well his daring escape from the alpha, had been all but forgotten which was beyond surprising.

He should be traumatized, in serious need of therapy in a big comfy couch but instead it was more like a memory of a show he had watched and just barely remembered. Images blurred and flittered through time and distance.

Stiles had a nagging suspicion that Maria had something to do with it.

Isaac didn't show up for lunch and Stiles didn't see him again until practice that afternoon. Coach seemed to have it out of the team that day, deciding that they needed to work on stamina and staying power which somehow translated to them running back and forth across the field until that had, as a team, sweat out enough to equal the weight of at least one player.

Even as a wolf, Stiles was a bit winded but had to act exhausted like the rest of the players. Not that he would earn an Oscar because the coach stopped by him and patted his shoulder. "Nice hustle out there Blinski. Keep that up and you might just make first string this year."

With the death glare from Jackson and curious glances from the rest of the team, Stiles could feel his ears heating up at the unexpected praise and notice. He stood up and offered a hand to help Isaac.

"Do you need a ride home today?" Stiles had noticed that Isaac took the bus in the morning. He didn't know how he got home in the evening but he was betting Isaac was forced to walk.

The tall boy hunched down, trying to fold himself into a smaller person. "I don't want you to go out of your way. I live passed Oak Creek."

"That's perfect," Stiles smiled. "I tutor at the Hale house so you are on my way."

Isaac was quiet in the locker room and most of the way home. Stiles tried every way he could think of to get more information out of his new friend short of asking out right 'is your dad beating the crap out of you?'

Pulling up outside a one story house Stiles gave it one last shot. "If you need anything, help or something, you know you can ask me, right?"

Isaac smiled, tight and sad. "Maybe you could tutor me in chem? I really need to bring my grade up before progress reports come out."

"Well, duh." Stiles said with a smile watching as Isaac trudged up the short walk and into the house. He paused at the door to wave before disappearing inside. Stiles couldn't help but think he was a lousy friend.

Once he was out on the road to the preserve Stiles dialed his father. The sheriff answered on the second ring. "Are you alright son?"

"Can't a son call his father without something being wrong? Maybe I was just checking in with you."

"Then you would have just left me a text. What's wrong? And are you driving? Do you know how dangerous that is?"

"Yeah, I do. My dad's actually the sheriff you know. Will you be home tonight? I really think I need to talk to you." His father was quiet on his end but with his new werewolf hearing Stiles could hear his dad's heartbeat pick up speed. "It's nothing bad, well I mean it's bad. No, okay – it could be bad but it's not me that it's happening to but I just need to ask you about it." Funny, that didn't seem to help his father's heart rate decrease any.

"I'll be home tonight. We can talk when you get back from tutoring Alex." Stiles hated that his father sounded so tired. He had so many responsibilities and Stiles' antics on top of it. Did he really want to add something else to his father's plate?

Then he remembered the way Isaac held himself in class, the subtle flinch whenever someone moved too quickly near him and Stiles knew he had to do something. "I'll see you when I get home. I'm hanging up now so that I will be safe, I hear the sheriff is a real hard ass about these things. And before you say it, I promise to pull over if I text. Love you."

With a possible solution to what to do about Isaac, Stiles drove the rest of the way to the Hale house feeling lighter. He parked behind Derek's car and gave it his usual pat as he walked up the stairs and into the house.

Alex was in front of the console with his math book open in front of him. "I thought we would take turns playing. That way we can get our homework done at the same time."

Liking the younger Hales' logic, Stiles dropped his backpack and joined him on the floor. It helped keep his mind off Isaac and his worries about his friend. At least Stiles tried to tell himself that. An hour later when Maria popped her head in they still hadn't started their assignments. "Dinner is in thirty minutes. If your homework is not finished by then or at least mostly done by then I will have Laura bury your game console in the backyard."

It was amazing how quickly homework could be completed given the right incentives. Alex and Stiles easily finished before being called to the table to join the rest of the pack.

The whole family was there. Stiles was introduced to Derek's father and uncle. Derek looked like a younger version of his father, a little bulkier and grumpier but no one would ever doubt they were related. Uncle Peter was slimmer with dark hair and mischievous eyes that Stiles found himself on guard for immediately. By the time the salad course was finished they had exchanged multiple barbed remarks.

"If you two don't behave, neither of you will be getting dessert." Stiles had already eyed the layered cake waiting to be devoured on the counter. His mouth shut with an audible click.

"Dearest Alpha, I was just trying to make the young pup feel at home, part of the family one could say."

"Peter behave." Maria may have said it with a fond smile but there was no doubt that it was an order.

Without the constant distraction of the video game to keep his mind focused off his worries, Stiles found himself thinking about Isaac. Alex nudged him with his foot raising his eyebrows in a question at Stiles' unusual silence. Shrugging Stiles looked back down at his food.

"You're quiet tonight, Stiles."

"Thank God." Derek said in what could loosely be termed as a whisper.

"Just thinking." With a silly smile plastered on his face he went on to describe the day's practice and how the coach ran the team into the ground with dozen of suicides. He had perfected covering his mental processing with verbal rambling years ago. It was a good defense when your father was the sheriff and you needed time to come up with a plausible explanation for some of the shit Stiles had pulled in his life time.

Maria kept a pleasant smile on her face during the whole story even as the rest of the pack's eyes glazed over as the tuned him out. When he finished she reached across the table and laid her hand over his. "I hope someday you will learn to trust me with your worries. Your pack is here to help. You still need time to learn that though.

Stile felt that familiar curl of guilt in his stomach. It was the same you he got when he lied to his father. Maria kept the eye contact with Stiles for another couple of heartbeats before giving him another pat and standing to clear the table. "Derek, you have dishes tonight. Laura, take out the trash."

Alex and Stiles escaped during the expected rumblings from the siblings over chore distribution. "I've gotta go." Stiles said as he grabbed his backpack. His feeling of unease had only grown during dinner. He needed to check for himself that Isaac was okay but he wasn't ready to share his concerns with the pack.

Alex walked him out to the jeep and leaned in through the open window. "Something's bothering you. Why won't you tell us?"

"I can't be sure just yet. I just need to know everything before I can."

That's even more reason for you to tell us. We have even more experience than you do with senses and being a wolf."

"It's not like that, it isn't just a wolf thing, it's…complicated and before you say it, no that's not a good enough reason to tell you guys."

"How can you not trust me? You can tell me anything. Stiles you're my best friend – no you're more than that. You're my pack brother." Alex replied, as if his heart was broken.

"I don't know anything about you guys! I've only been a wolf a few days and I can't risk someone's….look just give me a few days okay? Your mom is willing to give me time, why can't you?"

"I just wanna help." Alex said with a frown that nearly broke Stiles' heart. "Just let me know if I can help. Okay?"

Nodding Stiles hopped into his jeep and pulled away watching Alex in the rearview mirror until he was just a speck.

He's half way to Isaac's house before he even realizes that he is driving there. Stiles' wishes he had asked for Isaac's number so he could call but he hadn't thought about that in school. Parking down the street a bit, he focuses on the house. After a moment or two he can pick up a couple of heartbeats; one slow and steady coming from what was most likely a bedroom and the other, fast and panicked coming from below the main floor.

Slipping out of his jeep, Stiles hops the back fence and works his way silently to the back door. It takes just a twist of his wrist to break the lock and let himself in through the kitchen. He can hear the snores of Isaac's dad coming from down the hall and frantic scratching and pleading coming from below.

Following the sound of desperation is easy, dealing with the smell of old blood and fresh fear is not. His wolf strains to emerge, tugging at the tentative hold he has over his control.

By the time Stiles comes to the door to the basement he is panting with the tension of holding back his shift. The scent of raw terror hits him like a physical blow staggering him back, protecting Isaac is his only though, with his wolf desperate to find the boy and destroy whatever caused him pain. He gagged on the odor, retching to try to get the taste form out of the back of his throat.

But in his rush to help all his werewolf agility and stealth failed him and he stumbled down the steps, heel sliding on the top causing him to half fall as he legs bumped down each one and the only thing that kept him off his ass was his death grip on the wooden railing.

"Dad," Isaac's voice pleaded from inside a dented white freezer wrapped in chains. "I'm sorry. I'll do better, I swear. Please let me out. Please Dad."

Horrified at the sound, Stiles didn't waste another moment hesitating or worrying about trying to be quiet. The old lock came apart like dried clay as he crushed it in his hands, ripping apart the chains around the freezer. The top of the freezer slammed into the wall, cracking the plaster and causing a small cloud of dust as he pulled a trembling Isaac from its depts.

Stiles? What are you doing here?" Isaac stuttered, his whole body trembling and covered with cooling sweat.

Knowing he had no way of speaking to Isaac that didn't involve howling with rage at his friend's pain, Stiles chooses to remain silent, simply smiling down at Isaac as he pulls him from the freezer.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?" A lanky man, eyes raging behind thin framed glasses thundered down the stairs. He held a baseball bat in his hand, knuckles white around the grip. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Stiles Stilinski, you asshole. Who the fuck locks their kid in a fucking freezer? He's not a goddamn ice cream sandwich, you sick piece of trash." Stiles watched as Mr. Lahey's face turned bright red, veins popping out with such force that he was surprised he didn't have an aneurism right on the steps.

With a snarl of fury the older man hefted the bat and closed in on the two boys. Stiles had his father's number ringing before he had even reached the bottom step. "My father's the sheriff," he yelled as he heard his father pick up on the other end.

"Stiles? Where are you, son?" His father's voice had taken on its 'sheriff tone', the one that dealt with the dredges of human depravity on a regular basis and still managed to hold it together. "Stiles, I'm on my way. Give me more information."

"You can't do this anymore Mr. Lahey. My dad's on his way and I've seen what you do to your son."

"That's the way son, just stay on the line for me. - Don't hang up." Stiles could hear his father radioing for help and the roar of the cruiser. He stood up pushing Isaac behind him as the enraged man closed the last few feet between them.

The bat seemed to swing in slow motion. Curling in on himself, wrapping himself around Isaac as his instincts scream for him to protect the human, it was almost too easy to prepare for the blow but the pain of the strike still rippled through his body making his stomach churn and twist from the sudden pain. Werewolf healing or not; it still hurt.

The second blow was aimed at his side. Mr. Lahey apparently targeting Isaac just as much as him. Realizing he needed to get himself and Isaac out of the house before he lost complete control Stiles kicked out with his feet as Mr. Lahey stood over him, hitting the older man with all his strength in the knee cap. It crunched like breaking glass sending Isaac's father tumbling to the ground clutching his leg and screaming.

Dragging Isaac to his feet, Stiles pulled him up the stairs and toward the front of the house. He could hear the wail of the sirens in the distance and knew that help would be there soon. The chain refused to slide out of the lock as he fumbled with it at the front door. The constant onslaught of fear wafting up from Isaac combined with his frantic heartbeat and the screaming cusses from the basement had Stiles' humanity all but completely buried.

With a snarl he ripped the chain from its clasp and tugged the door open, ignoring both the splintering of the wood in the door frame and the gasp of shock from Isaac in his haste to get them out of the house.

By the time they were on the lawn the red and blue lights from the squad cars could be seen at the end of the street. Stiles held onto Isaac, pulling Isaac into his arms as the taller boy's legs seemed to give out from beneath him, and carried him to the curb to wait for his father to arrive.

Within moments they were within the protective circle of the Beacon Hill deputies, many of whom Stiles had known for most of his life. Two went into the house to check on Mr. Lahey while the rest stood guard over Stiles until his father, filled with worry, pulled in front of the house. Without a word the sheriff gathered his son to his chest, pulling him close enough that Stiles could feel the imprint of his father's badge in his skin.

Stiles let his body sag against his fathers, feeling safe for the first time in days.


	10. A Long Day

Stiles woke eyes blurry from sleep, to look with confusion at the large lumpy shape that was curled up against him. His brain kicked in at the same time that he pulled the covers back revealing Isaac's sleeping form.

Somehow his dad had managed to get them both released from immediate questioning and allowed them to go back home. There were some distinct pluses with having your father be the sheriff.

The 'guest room' had long ago been turned into the 'everything we don't know where to put but just can't throw away' room and there was barely enough space to open the door much less let an actual guest stay inside with the clutter.

Isaac had given the small den with its comfortable couch a wide eyed stare, waves of need and aloneness coming off him so strong that Stiles just immediately changed his course and dragged them both up the stairs to his room. The bed was small but the two traumatized teens found enough space and curled together to sleep before Stiles dad could say a word.

On the edge of sleep Stiles could feel his father's stare and smell the amusement that just barely dulled the sharpness of the worry his dad was feeling. His wolf had felt as content as he cuddled around the taller boy, trying to protect him from the memories of the past. He tensed briefly as his father stepped closer; not wanting to be parted from Isaac's side but his father just pulled the light duvet from its usual position, a tangled heap on the floor, and tucked both of them in for the night.

"Night boys." He whispered shutting the door behind him.

Isaac snuffled and burrowed deeper into the covers tugging at them until his head disappeared except for a couple of stray curls that peaked over the hem of the sheets. Using his super-wofie stealthiest, Stiles worked his way to the far side of the bed so as not to wake the sleeping teen.

'So that's where my skateboard's been', he thought as his foot slipped out from under him and he went crashing to the floor. By the time he pulled himself back to his feet his father was standing at the door, a small smile hovering at his lips.

"I heard you waking up. I've already called the school and informed them that you would be absent today. I'm going to have to take both of you with me to work today so that I can get your statements. I'm making breakfast. Do you want pancakes or omelets?"

"Pancakes," Stiles answered at the same times as Isaac murmured "Omelets" from beneath the covers.

"I can make both," the sheriff chuckled as he turned to head down the stairs. "You boys need to hurry and get dressed. Isaac, I had an officer grabs some clothing from your room. It's on Stiles' desk."

Stiles looked over his shoulder to find Isaac blinking at him owlishly from the bed. His big doe eyes and blond curls made him seem so much younger than Stiles knew he was.

"What's going to happen to my dad?" Isaac asked in a shaky voice.

"My dad's going to make sure he goes to jail for a long time and will never be able to hurt you again."

"He wasn't always like that." Isaac sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. "After my brother died he just got so angry all the time and I kept messing everything up. I forget to do my chores and I'm failing half my classes and he just gets so angry with me. If I was just better…"

"Stop that!" Stiles' wolf wanted to lunge forward and rip those broken words from Isaac's mouth. "It is NOT your fault that your dad was abusing you. There is NOTHING you could have done that would make you deserve to be locked in a broken freezer. Nothing! Hell, my dad caught me looking for a dead body in the middle of the woods at one a.m. and the most my dad does is look at me with big, sad disappointed eyes. Father's don't abuse their sons. And the fact that HE did means that there was something wrong with him – not you!"

By the time he finished Stiles was panting with anger, his fists clinched tightly at his sides. Isaac had pulled away and was now pressed against the headboard watching Stiles with wide eyes. With a calming breath Stiles noticed that while there was no outright FEAR in Isaac's gaze there was definitely a large amount of unease.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to get so crazy but the idea that you think that getting locked in the freezer was in anyway be your fault just makes me so mad."

"Your eyes changed color…they turned blue. They did that last night too when you ripped the door off the hinge."

"Oh Shit!" Stiles whispered, dropping to the end of the bed and covering his face this both hands. He was so fucked. He was beyond fucked. His brain was just a jumbled mass of "ohnoohnoohnoohno" until Isaac placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"I won't tell. Whatever it is, whatever you are hiding. I won't tell."

Stiles nodded as his body trembled with the after effects. "Thanks."

"Does your father know?"

A quick shake was all the answer Isaac needed. "I can keep a secret. I'm good at keeping secrets." The last sentence was said with a darkness that made Stiles want to punch Isaac's father in the face and never stop.

"Thanks." They sat there in silence each deep in their own thoughts and worries until the sheriff yelled up the stairs.

"Boys! Breakfast in ten minutes. Stiles, you need to shower because I'm going to be stuck in my office with you for most of the day and I would appreciate it if I didn't have to breathe through my mouth to keep from passing out."

"Oh. My. God. Dad!" Stiles cried turning bright red. Isaac's laughter lightened the tension in the room. "It's not that bad." He said turning to look at the smiling teen.

"Dude, you're a health hazard."

Stiles closed his gaping mouth with an audible click finding no comeback to equal Isaac's teasing remark. With a playful pout and a pillow tossed at the older teen's head, he stalked off to the bathroom.

Stiles had spent many hours of his life in the police station so he didn't have the innate fear that most teens would have as he walked through the front doors. The officer behind the front counter gave him a cheerful smile and one of the deputies called out to his partner "hide the donuts" as Stiles headed for the back. But mostly the officers that worked side by side with his father and had watched Stiles grow from a hyper young boy into a hyper teenager gave him encouraging pats and a few whispered "good jobs" as he followed his dad and Isaac into the back of the station.

All three of them ended up in his father's office along with another deputy to help take down their statements. Isaac was visibly shaking by the time he sat down, skin pale and clammy as he took shallow breathes to keep the panic at bay.

Stiles rested his hand on the older teen's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. "It's my dad. Everything is going to be okay. You didn't do anything wrong."

The deputy offered them all cups of what the station kindly referred to as 'coffee'. Stiles wasn't quite sure if the sludge, which moved sluggishly around in his cup long after it should have stilled, wasn't really alive. He pushed it to the far end of his father's desk where he could keep an eye on it and watched as Isaac took a hesitant sip of his own. The grimace that carved lines of disgust into the blonds face was all the confirmation Stiles needed. The coffee was evil.

His father waited while the boys settled in, looking at both with calm discerning eyes. Stiles slide down as far as he could go in his chair knowing that his father wasn't sheriff of Beacon Hills because of his charm alone. He was a good police officer and could smell bull shit from a mile away. Stiles knew that his father turned a blind eye to many of his harmless activities but would be all over him if he though Stiles was endangering himself or others. And last night…he had done both.

Oh double shit!

"Isaac. As much as I am looking forward to the tale of wonder my son spins to explain his involvement in last night adventure, I would like to hear what you have to say first." He smiled sadly and flipped open a file. "I know it's hard but I need you to be honest. How long has your father been abusing you?"

Isaac stammered and tried to hedge but the sheriff kept gently redirecting him until the teen answered. "After my brother died. He was never like that until then. I know I make him mad. I don't act like I should or make the grades he expects…" Isaac trailed off looking everywhere but at the sheriff.

"Can you tell me what happened last night?" The sheriff's face was calm but Stiles could tell by the set of his shoulders and the way his fingers whitened around the pen he was holding that his father was furious. The smell of anger that his wolf picked up on was a dead giveaway as well.

"I'm failing chemistry this semester. I told him I could bring it up but he just, he just got so angry and then he said that the only way I would learn, that I could learn because I was such a disappointment was if I was disciplined. I begged him not to put me in there again but he wouldn't listen. He never listens."

Isaac curled in on himself, tucking his knees up to his chest and burying his face between them. Even without seeing his friends face, Stiles knew he was crying from the sudden smell of saline in the air.

"Isaac, I need you to answer just a few more questions for me and then my deputy will take you somewhere that you can rest while I talk to my son." Stiles marveled at how together his father was; calm and relaxed even as his rage boiled just beneath the surface.

"Can you tell me how you got out?"

Oh shit, Stiles thought again. This could end up being very bad for him.

"I'm not sure sir. When I heard the chains coming off I thought my dad was letting me out early. Sometimes he does that." Stiles heard the up-tick of Isaac heart and knew that he was lying. "And then Stiles was helping me out but my dad came down the stairs and started swinging the bat at us. I don't know how Stiles got us away but then we were at the front door, kicking at it because we couldn't get it open. We got outside and I heard the sirens and then you took us to your house. I'm sorry sir but it was all just…crazy."

Stiles let his breath of relief out as slowly as possible so he didn't give away how nervous he had been to his father.

The sheriff smiled at Isaac and thanked him. The deputy led him out of the room so that Stiles was left facing his father across the desk. All pretenses at a calm mask slipped off his father's face. Stiles could see the anger and disgust plainly written across his dad's features.

"Is this what you called me about last night? What you didn't have enough information about? Damn it Stiles! No matter how flimsy the evidence you have is, if you think someone is being abused it is your responsibility to tell the police or the CPS. If you didn't trust me – "

"You make it sound like I've known about this for more than one day. The second I thought something was going on I called you. You're talking like I've been sitting around watching him be abused for weeks."

"Stiles, I'm not saying that, but you came dangerously close to breaking quite a few laws tonight."

"Which is clearly more important that Isaac getting out of that DAMN freezer." Stiles replied, his inner wolf angry at having to justify protecting the boy it had grown fond of.

"Stiles I don't want to argue, you had a long night so let's just get through this. Now how exactly did you know that Isaac was in the basement freezer?"

"I didn't exactly." Stiles stalled and tried to calm his wolf down, hoping to silence the animal instincts and think up a story. "I heard the fighting and things I thought sounded like, well, like someone getting hit. I went around the back and the noise was coming from the basement. I know I should have called you but I just didn't want to risk Isaac getting hurt."

His father made an agreeing huff at that but motioned Stiles to continue.

"I broke in the back and went down to the basement. I could hear him scrapping against the freezer. God, Dad it was horrible." That part was completely true Stiles thought. "I broke the lock with some weird tool," my claws are a weird tool he justified to himself. "And just as I pulled Isaac out his dad was down their swinging a freaking bat. Things are a little fuzzy after that. It's kinda hard to focus on the details when someone is coming at you like it's the World Series and you're the ball. I called you and tried to get out. That's all there really is to the story."

The sheriff wrote what seemed like a full essay while Stiles shifted uneasily in his chair. Finally he lifted his head. "There are still a few things I'm confused about, the broken front door for one, but we found more than enough evidence that Isaac had been kept in that damn freezer to put his father in jail for quite a long time. But, son, no matter what you thought you were doing, no matter how much you meant to help, your actions last night could have messed this case up to the point that his father would just get to walk out of the court free as a bird."

"I get that, but no matter what the law says you can't tell me that letting Isaac sit in a glorified torture chamber while the police gather evidence is the right thing to do."

"Stiles, laws exist for a reason so…"

"I said getting him out was the right thing to do, not the by the book approach. And you're the one that always said that when police rush in to quickly the kid usually just gets placed back in the same home and things are worse than ever. Sometimes doing the right thing and following the law are just different."

"I know son. And I'm proud that I raised a son that would put his safety on the line for a friend but I'd rather you not do that again. For a kid that spends so much time worrying about the foods that I eat causing my arteries to clog and harden you sure don't watch out for your own actions that seriously could give me a heart attack."

His father smiled and stood to ruffle Stiles' hair. "There are a few more things that the CPS people need to talk to Isaac about. Would you stay with him? Give him some moral support and a friendly face?"

"Sure."

The sheriff hugged Stiles a little tighter than he usually did smelling of relief and sadness. Another deputy came to take Stiles to where Isaac was waiting. Stiles looked back just as his father slammed his fist into the door frame. It was cases like this that caused his father to drag out the bottle late at night to try to drown the images of the evil that people could press upon others. This was the part of his father's job that he hated.

Turning away so his father didn't know he witnessed his moment of weakness, Stiles hurried after the deputy to sit with Isaac for as long as he was needed.

It took until almost lunch time for all the questions to be answered, forms filled out, and general red tape that Isaac and Stiles had to go through. The only thing that saved Stiles at the end, when he let a small growl escape while surrounded by some of his father's deputies, was the ability to blame the noise on his poor empty stomach.

Isaac's raised eyebrows and the subtle hint of fear told Stiles that his new friend was not falling for that excuse. He was going to have to talk to Isaac about what he knew, or thought he knew about Stiles.

An older woman with greying hair walked into the small waiting room where Stiles and Isaac sat. She smiled with tired eyes and pulled a manila folder from her monstrosity of a purse before sitting across from Isaac.

"I'm you case worker Ms. Franks. Are there any relatives I can contact for you, Isaac? Someone you can stay with for a while?" The file was flipped open with a flourish that bespoke of a motion that had been repeated far too often.

"I have an aunt somewhere in Idaho or Ohio but she hasn't spoken to me since my mother's funeral. After my brother died I tried to get in touch with her but she didn't want anything to do with me or my side of the family."

Ms. Franks made a couple of notes before looking back up at Isaac. "Are there any relatives nearby? Your file says that you will be eighteen in five months and I'm just not sure if a group home would be your best option. The nearest one is two towns over and I hate to have children leave a stable environment if I can help it."

Isaac shrugged looking helpless and lost. Stiles wrinkled his nose at the smell that was coming off of him. It had the acid bite of fear but was drier, like something left out in the sun for too long. Desperation, Stiles' wolf supplied.

"He can stay with me." Ms. Franks focused on Stiles for the first time a small frown forming on her face. "My father's the sheriff. If there was any place that would be a good home for him it would be with an officer of the law."

"That's sweet of you to offer but I'm afraid that I will have to take Isaac with me until I can place him in a proper environment. Isaac, I'll be back in just a few minutes. I need to finish up with the sheriff and then we can go and get you settled in."

With another kindly pat to his knee, Ms. Franks stood and left the room. "She can't just take you away, can she?" Stiles looked over at Isaac who had shrunk in on himself. "You're almost eighteen. Can't you get emancipated or something?"

"I don't know. I don't have a job or money or anyway to live on my own. I don't know what to do."

"Well, I'm not just going to let them haul you off. You have friends and a good life here, well a good life now that your dad is in jail and can't hurt you anymore. I'll figure out something, I swear."

Isaac didn't respond except for a small smile but his eyes suddenly looked older than his not-quite-eighteen years. He looked like he had given up and it twisted Stiles' gut to see that.

"Okay Isaac, it's time to go." Ms. Franks stood at the door next to Stiles' dad. His dad looked worn and frayed, more so than Stiles had seen him in quite some time.

"Dad, why can't Isaac stay with us? We have the room and you're an upstanding member of society. Then he wouldn't have to leave school and all his friends."

"Stiles, "his father moaned. "This is not the time. Ms. Franks is doing what is best for Isaac. We can talk about this more tonight but right now Isaac needs to get placed as quickly as possible."

"Yeah, because the LAW knows what's in a teenage boy's best interest. We all know that doing things by the book works out best for everyone." Stiles replied, the accusations stopping the sheriff cold.

While the two were arguing Ms. Franks had gently herded a non-responsive Isaac out of the room and half way down the hall. Giving his father a look of disbelief tinted with anger and disgust, Stiles ran after his friend. He grabbed Isaac's arm and pulled him into a tight hug. "I'll figure something out, I promise."

"Thanks Stiles. I'll be fine." Isaac followed Ms. Franks out to her car and got in before giving Stiles another sad wave goodbye.

Stiles hated the feeling of helplessness that crushed his chest as he watched as Isaac was driven away. His father was a warm, if not wholly comforting presence at his side. "Come on son. I think we both deserve a hamburger after this."

It was proof of Stiles' emotional turmoil that he allowed his father to get away with eating both a fattening burger with cheese as well as fries and a milkshake without once complaining about his heart and health.

The sheriff drove Stiles back home and waited until Stiles had trudged all the way up to the front door before pulling away. Once inside Stiles let himself dropped into the soft cushions of the couch not even having the will to turn on the TV or play a game. He sat there, staring forlornly off into space until his phone beeped at him.

**Y U no school Scott** texted.

**Long story. Come over l8ter & talk?** Stiles replied.

**Srry. Promised to help Allison 3 find her necklace. 2morrow?**

Stiles couldn't help but roll his eyes. Scott was so completely caught up in Allison that he couldn't even be mad at his idiot, love struck friend. Scott was never one to do anything in half measures. He was an all or nothing sort of guy. But, the darker half of Stiles grumbled, he didn't like being on the 'nothing' end of his friends spectrum.

Finally turning on the TV Stiles shuffled to the kitchen to make himself a snack. The bag of chips he had hidden from his father was still unopened and he mentally patted himself on the back before pouring half the bag into a large bowl and heading back to watch Cartoon Network.

He didn't even see the shadow waiting for him in the hallway until he found himself slammed against the door, his bowl of chips shattering on the floor at his feet, staring into a pair of furious eyes and snarling fang tipped teeth.


	11. Aftermath of Good Deeds

The Aftermath of Good Deeds

_Jokr thinks I need to write a cute AN about how I was sick to let everyone know that is why I missed my update deadline. Believe me…there was nothing CUTE about me being sick but here it goes._

_Friday: 2 AM – conversations with my cats_

_My cats are sitting, at a safe distance, watching me with what can only be described as looks of AWE on their little kitty faces._

_Havoc (black and white cat – really FAT): Dude! Look at her form. She's amazing._

_Naught: (grey cat): I know. And all this time I thought she's been telling us NOT to throw up hair balls and really she's just been telling us we were doing it all wrong. I feel so inadequate._

_Havoc: Quick! Let me lick you. (lick, lick, lick) I've got to try this out myself._

_Saturday: Boyfriend panics and wants my parents to come over and make sure I am not dying. I try to explain that there is NO WAY my parents can come over because the house is not clean or vacuumed and there is a pile of dirty laundry and a sink full of unwashed dishes. Boyfriend doesn't understand. I threaten to kill him with my evil stomach bug should he call them over. Boyfriend switches to plan B and takes me to my parent's house where I get tucked into their bed_

_Yes, I am a complete and total adult….my mom's bed is still the greatest place EVER for when I feel bad. _

_You know how in horror movies there are all the whispered voices in the background. That's what I wake up to. It's my boyfriend and my parents talking in not so hushed voices._

_Dad: Don't you think she's too old for that._

_Mom: It always made her feel better as a child. Go get it. NOW (mom can be scary!)_

_BF: I'll help you sir if it will make her feel better._

_Dad: It's upstairs in storage (big attic type think we have that is sorta part of the upstairs but separate - - I have NO idea how to explain it)_

_Mom: GO. GET. IT. (men folk flee in terror)_

_A short while later they return and mom tucks Peanut in by my side…my stuffed animal from when I was a kid. Seriously! A STUFFED ANIMAL! Boyfriend looks like he is about to die because he is trying to hold the laughter in. Strangely enough, I do feel better and go back to sleep._

_A little while later BF comes back in and tucks the covers around me. I'm thinking 'yeah, he's the one' when I hear a click. A-hole took a picture of me! If it shows up anywhere I will have to kill him._

_Monday: Breakfast table with a piece of toast._

_Me: Okay tummy, we haven't had food for three days now. It's toast. We can eat a piece of bland toast._

_Tummy: I don't think I want to._

_Me: Come on! It's toast. We're not afraid of toast. We eat toast for BREAKFAST!_

_Tummy: Really? That's your inspirational speech? You know that's lame, like put that poor pony out of its misery lame. Forget it! I'm not eating it._

_Me: How about some juice? I have orange juice._

_Tummy: Hell NO! There is no way you are putting that acidic crap in me. I'm out of here. I hope you and your upper intestines are happy together._

Looking at them up close and more than little too personal, Derek's fangs were huge. The shattered remains of the bowl crunched under his boots as Derek maneuvered Stiles further back until he was pressed completely against the door, the paneling molding his flesh in its image.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Stiles snarled as he struggled against Derek's body. Restrained as he was, chest pinned to the door by Derek's arm and having been lifted up just enough that only his toes were touching the ground Stiles simply didn't have the leverage he needed to push Derek away.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't rip your throat out right here and now?" The fury in his voice was evident and Stiles' wolf wanted to cower away from the stronger, older male. "Your actions last night threatened MY ENTIRE family, YOUR PACK! And for what? Some high school kid that you just started talking to a couple of days ago?"

"His dad was locking him in a freezer! Damn it Derek! How can you be such a cold hearted asshole? Was I just supposed to let him keep getting the crap beat out of him until his dad slipped up and killed him? Just turned a blind eye when I knew I could help? Was I just supposed to abandon him? You may not care about anybody besides you family and pack but I do!"

"Caring is fine but not when it endangers the pack." Derek stepped even closer wedging Stiles further up the door until he was suspended by Derek's strength alone. Stiles kicked out but the closeness made it so there was no strength behind his kicks.

Derek's hold continued to tighten making Stiles struggle for breath. Stiles didn't want to fight Derek, wanted to talk it out. Stiles' biggest strength was his ability to talk his way out of problems but his wolf had other plans.

His claws lengthen and he could feel the slide of his fangs in his mouth. With a guttural roar right in Derek's face, complete with foaming spittle, he pushed away from the door to crouch in front of Derek.

"I didn't endanger the pack." Derek took a closer step but Stiles stood his ground the tensing of his body the only indication that he was even affected by the beta's movement. "I HAD to protect him Derek. I'm sorry but I couldn't just abandon him when he needed me."

"What about protecting us? What do you think would happen to the pack, to Alex and Laura, if everyone found out about werewolves? There would be no place that was safe for us. Is this boy that you barely know worth destroying all that?"

Stiles let his shoulders drop and then his gaze, looking down and away from Derek. "It's not like that Derek. I wasn't thinking." He ran a desperate hand through his hair as Derek snorted in agreement. "I know, I know, it wasn't the smartest thing to do but I just felt like he's…mine, my responsibility, mine to protect."

Derek nodded and a suddenly kinder look on his face appeared. Stiles had the momentary wish that he was still growling at him because whatever THAT look meant was even scarier. "So you care about the boy."

"Well, yes. Wait! What? I care about him but not that way. I mean he's cute and all but…he's just so vulnerable. He needed someone to be there for him. I just have this need to defend him."

Derek's brows drew together like gathering storm clouds, his brief moment of non-broodiness forgotten. Stiles had to smile at that bit of imagery before pulling his attention back to the angry beta. The frown made Derek look like he had stepped in something foul but at least the look was not directed at Stiles.

"It's not uncommon for certain rare wolves to feel a strong protective instinct, especially toward weaker members of the pack but usually it is just people within the pack itself, not some random outsider."

"Well," huffed Stiles. "Isaac doesn't feel like some random outsider to me."

Derek rubbed at his head like the conversation was causing him physical pain. "Look! You are new to this and right now you are confusing friends and family with pack. They are not the same. Anyone can BE pack should the alpha choose to bring them in but just being the family, or a friend of a werewolf, doesn't make you pack." Derek spoke slowly which made Stiles narrow his eyes at him in anger.

"Look," Stiles snarled in anger. "I know I didn't handle this the best way but you don't need to treat me like I'm an idiot."

"If you act like one, I'll treat you like one. You put yourself and your pack at risk. You also put Isaac and your father at risk because you may have been able to fool the police but any werewolf with a brain, including that rogue alpha out there will have no trouble figuring out how you managed that. If he didn't know who you were before, he does now. That puts everyone you care about in jeopardy. Did you think of that?"

Stiles couldn't answer, couldn't find the breath in his lungs for a moment and just stood there while Derek's furious scowl slowly slid from his face. "Stiles, you need to trust us, trust your pack. We're here to help you. Mom would have done anything in the world to save that boy. Hell, your own father would have been able to help you save that boy. All you needed to do was stop and think. So do me a favor and use your brain next time, assuming you have one, because I won't be so understanding next time."

Derek didn't wait for Stiles to think of a comeback. Within seconds he heard the roar of the Camaro as Derek pulled away from the curb a couple of houses down and took off.

With an exhausted sigh, Stiles set about cleaning up the mess in the front hallway before his father got home.

The next day at school was awful. The students in the hallway would hush to whispers as he approached only to let loose a torrent of gossip once he had passed them by. He could still hear everything with his wolf senses however and the thunderous sound of his name on the lips of all the students was quickly giving him a headache.

By the time he reached his locker he was about ready to bite someone, to sink his fangs in and really chew. A majority of the gossipers didn't even seem to care that Isaac had been abused, brutalized and beaten by the one person who should have been his ultimate protector. No, most of the voices that whispered his name with the implication that the two of them had been lovers.

It wasn't that he cared what they thought but the fact that they cared more about a fabricated relationship instead of the years of fear and abuse suffered by one of their classmates just churned his stomach. Shallow, self-centered pathetic jerks!

"Stiles! Thank God you're here today. I've been trying to find Allison's necklace. It was a birthday present from her aunt, passed down through the family for generations or something. Anyway she's all upset and I've got to find it. I need you to help me!"

Turning Stiles took a look at the king of the shallow, self-centered jerks that was masquerading as his best friend. He knew Scott had a good heart and cared but the boy was so deep in his "Allison love fest" that the rest of the world apparently no longer existed.

"Did you even HEAR about Isaac?" Scott's eyes darken briefly in anger. Crossing his arms he leaned against the locker next to Stiles and practically vibrated rage.

"Mom was one of the nurses there when Child Services brought him in for a check -up. She was so pale when she got home. Apparently there are scars and bruises all over his body that go back for years. She didn't understand how he could have hidden that much damage over the years, how no one ever knew." Facing Stiles he smiled his bright puppy smile, the one that had him seeing only the good in the world. "But you found out and did something. You are a great friend Stiles. He was lucky he met you."

Stiles ducked his head under the unexpected praise from his friend. It was times like this that reminded him why Scott was his best friend. Funny how a shallow, self-centered jerk could also be the greatest guy in the world. Stiles was seconds from hugging Scott when his friend added, "So can you help me find Allison's necklace? It's really important."

Yeah, Stiles thought, the hug would have to wait.

The day was surreal and in some instances during the day he felt like Moses and the students were the Red Sea parting before him as he walked down the hall. Other times he was swarmed by people wanting to congratulate him, patting him on the back and shoulder, a couple of awkward hugs by girls he didn't even know.

The final nail in his coffin of weird was chemistry when Mr. Harris paused by his desk. Stiles had already curved his spine and tucked his head waiting for whatever zinger Mr. Harris had prepared for him today, not willing to look into his eyes and see the teacher's usual sneer of distain. Instead, Mr. Harris placed a tentative hand on his shoulder and smiled as Stiles looked up at him. ""Good job, Mr. Stillinski, you did the right thing."

Of course that moment didn't last long and by the end of class he was hurrying out the door with the threat of impending detention hanging over his head but considering any other day he would've already been serving time, he figured it was a win.

By the time the final bell rang he was more than ready to head for home. He managed to catch Scott to tell him to make excuses with Coach for him skipping practice, having had his fill of whispers and not so subtle glances in his direction. He was on edge, his wolf was about to crawl out of his skin. Stiles wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up under his covers and wait for college.

"Hey." Alex's quiet voice startled him enough that he jumped slightly before turning to face the youngest Hale.

"I didn't see you today at lunch." Alex shrugged before heading out the doors. Stiles followed, starting to pick up the scents coming from the younger teen; anger and hurt.

"I decided to sit with my friends." Ouch! Stiles paused before grabbing Alex and pulling him off to the side of the stairs so they could talk.

"You say that like I'm not included anymore." Alex shrugged again, one desponded shoulder raising a fraction before dropping back down. It was more of a twitch than a shrug but full of expression that Alex's face didn't have. "Okay, now you're just doing a Derek impression." Stiles joked to get a smile.

"Why didn't you come to us? Do you really not trust us? We're your pack; we're supposed to help you." Stiles smelled anger but the scent was overwhelmed with pain and betrayal.

"I didn't tell anyone. Not even my dad. I just wasn't sure and I had to be positive before I told anyone. I couldn't take the chance of being wrong about something like that and once I was there, God Alex, he was locked in a freezer, I had to do something."

Alex kicked at the staggered bricks that lined the wall of the stairs still unwilling to meet Stiles' eyes. "I thought you would trust us more."

"I do trust you. Me not saying anything to you about Isaac wasn't about my trusting the pack or not trusting my father; I just wanted to find out the truth about what was going on before I started making accusations but when I did I had to act. But next time," Stiles leaned against the tree behind him as he carded his hand through his short hair. "Next time something is all weird, I promise I'll tell the pack, I'll drag one of you with me. Okay? I promise."

Alex tilted his head in what Stiles was starting to recognize as the 'I'm listening for lies' look. There was just enough time that passed that Stiles was beginning to think he had messed his friendship up with Alex beyond repair.

The punch that rocked Stiles back a step as it made contact with his shoulder, while werewolf playful, would have knocked out a normal person. The worst damage to Stiles was the pile of textbooks resting in the grass at his feet. "I'm still mad at you but okay. Just try not to be such an asshole in the future." Alex grinned. "Are you giving me a ride today?"

"Yeah sure. You know that hurt by the way?." Stiles grumbled bending to gather his things. His notes from English fluttered in the thin breeze, flipping twice before catching against the bark of the oak tree. Grabbing it before the page could flutter away again Stiles noticed a glint of silver in the afternoon sun. Dusting aside a couple of leaves Stiles found a silver necklace with a stylized wolf on the front.

Remembering Scott and Allison's make out session from a few days before Stiles slide the necklace into his pocket before following Alex out to his car. His call to Scott went straight to voicemail which was becoming more and more common.

They rode to the Hale house was mostly in silence which Stiles could only take so much of before breaking. "You know your brother paid me a visit yesterday."

"Did he tear you a new one? Because that's what you deserved." Alex stared out the side window at the passing trees.

"Crap. I said I was sorry." Maybe the punch wasn't as playful as he thought it was.

"No you never said sorry. You made excuses and justified your actions but you never once apologized." Alex's eyes flashed amber and Stiles wisely dropped his head.

"I am sorry, Alex. I was wrong and should have told someone, I shouldn't have gone into that situation alone. I guess I'm just not used to having a pack."

Stiles was relieved to see the Hale house at the end of the road, the air in the jeep was getting just a little too thick for his comfort. There was more than the usual amount of cars in the front. Pulling behind Derek's black car he let out a long sigh.

"Is everybody as pissed as Derek is at me?" Thumping his head on the steering wheel didn't bring him any relief from the tension gathering in his chest at the thought of facing the rest of the pack.

"Derek was the worst but Laura is definitely a close second. You should still come out with most of your skin intact. Mom won't actually let them kill you or anything. At least I don't think so."

"Thanks Alex. You're making it so much better." Dragging his feet he followed Alex into the house where he could smell dinner cooking. "Where did all the extra cars come from?"

Alex looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Uncle Peter is back with Dad. Looks like you get to meet the whole pack tonight."

An older looking version of Derek stepped into the hall from the living room and Alex ran to hug his father. The younger man Stiles recognized from breakfast the day before but didn't remember his name. Standing off to the side while he was introduced, Stiles felt shy at the sudden attention of two strange adults.

"So," the younger man said, his voice sounding like a purr as he spoke to the other man. "This is our newest pack mate. And he's causing trouble all ready." Smiling at Stiles he added, "I think we are going to get along just fine." Moving closer into Stiles' personal space than he felt comfortable with, the man shook his hand and just lingered. "I'm Peter. We met the other day at breakfast."

Stiles stuttered out his name while he franticly tried to free his hand from the other's grip without seeming insulting. He had already screwed up enough, he didn't need to add insulting the rest of the Hale family to his list of sins.

"Peter, you're scaring the boy." The Derek double brushed aside the slighter man and extended his own hand. "I'm Patrick." With a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made the whole room feel lighter Patrick pulled Stiles in for a quick hug. "I've heard you've been keeping my family on their toes the last few days. We'll have to work on getting you to run with the pack, it takes time for the newly changed to find their way but I'll help you along."

With another squeeze to Stiles' shoulder he stepped away and headed into the kitchen. Peter smiled and Stiles was instantly reminded of Loki, a trickster and creator of chaos. Uncle Peter seemed to fit that description perfectly.

"Hey, come help me with these proofs for geometry" Alex called from the living room where he had already spread out across the coffee table and most of the couch. Stiles slipped around Peter, giving the man plenty of space, and dropped to the couch next to the youngest Hale.

The next half hour was almost peaceful except for the presence of Peter who decided to read a book in a chair directly across from where Stiles was sitting. He could never catch the man looking at him but felt his eyes on him almost constantly.

He was so intent of trying to catch Peter looking at him that Stiles didn't even notice Laura's approach until she had smacked him on the back of the head hard enough to make his ears ring.

"Are you stupid or just irresponsible enough to not care about putting the lives of your pack mates in danger over some stupid boy from your school?"

"The FUCK Laura! That hurt. Are you trying to cave my skull in?"

"No you little shit. I'm trying to knock some sense into you before you get us all discovered and put in little cages while crazed scientists experiment on us."

"I think you've been watching too many science fictions shows, my darling." Peter didn't even bother putting down his book but Stiles caught the slight smirk as his lip curled just a fraction.

"Isaac isn't some stupid boy. He was being abused which I keep telling everybody but no one seems to care. Was I just supposed to leave him there? Just hope that someone else would help him? Because you know what? No one else was there. I was the only help he had. Everyone else was just blind to the pain he felt and the way he held his body to hide the bruises and cuts. I did the right thing."

"You did the stupid thing!" Laura snarled right in his face her eyes bright blue as her fangs slipped past her lips. "Your actions could have lead hunters to our doorstep or more likely to your doorstep. But who do you think would have to save you? My family, my pack."

"Actually honey, it's MY pack." Maria Hale didn't raise her voice or flash her alpha eyes but every beta in the room, Stiles included, dropped their heads in submission. "While Stiles could have gone about his heroics last night with a little more foresight and thought, he actions were not wrong. His heart was in the right place."

Walking forward to where Stiles was standing she tilted his head up until he looked her in the eyes. "Next time, my pup, next time you come to your pack to share your knowledge and gain our wisdom. A lone wolf never lasts the winter." Eyes serious, Maria pressed her lips to Stiles' forehead before leaving the room.

"I'm sorry ma'am." Stiles replied, thoroughly shamed.

"My name's Maria, Stiles.

Laura hissed in Stiles' direction, sounding more like a cat than a canine before storming out of the room. "That went well," Peter smirked from across the room. "Seriously, no blood shed. You should count that as a win."

Torn between sitting back down next to Alex and making a run for the door and escaping the Hale house before someone else yelled at him, Stiles stood in the middle of the room looking blankly at the far wall.

"Hey, I still have another eight problems and there is no running away until I'm finished with this crap." Alex tossed a pillow at Stiles' head while ignoring his uncle's soft reminder of "language".

Stiles had just settled back on the couch when Derek walked in sporting the latest in 'I hate Stiles' facial wear. His usual look of cool distain was replaced by a scowl so terrifying that Stiles felt that he must have practiced it in the mirror before coming down the stairs.

"You need to move your piece of crap out of my way now." Not waiting for a reply Derek grabbed Stiles by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to his feet and halfway to the front door. He released him just as they reached the rug in the entry way causing Stiles to slip and totter clumsily before catching his balance against the door frame.

"Asshole!"

Derek responded by gripping the back of Stiles' neck and guiding him out the door the tips of his claws digging not so lightly into his flesh. Stiles jumped the stairs to get out from under Derek's grip and put some needed space between them. The older male was still obviously pissed at him and all Stiles' instincts screamed at him to keep his distance.

"Okay, okay. I'll move it." Digging into his pockets he pulled out his keys along with the silver necklace that fell shimmering to the ground at his feet. He scooped down to pick it up, looping a finger around the thin chain so the pendant twirled flickering in the light from the porch. The next thing Stiles knew there was a snarling mass tackling him to the ground.

"Monster!" Derek was almost foaming at the mouth in his rage. "You traitor!" Stiles managed to get an arm up, pressing it against Derek's throat to keep his fangs from ripping him apart. He couldn't stop the claws that tore through his layers of shirts and into the flesh on his hip. Twisting he kept the razor sharp searching tips from his stomach but even with his best efforts the air was soon filled with the smell of his blood.

Derek's next slash ripped open his arm from his shoulder all the way down to Stiles' elbow. Feeling his own wolf roar to the surface he lunged forward and sunk his teeth into Derek's bicep, biting down with all his might and twisting to cause as much pain as possible. The torrent of blood that filled his mouth made him gag, the taste of warm copper both nauseating and strangely pleasing.

Adding an extra push to Derek when he pulled away from the bite, Stiles managed to roll to his feet and face off against the enraged beta. "What the hell is wrong with you Derek? Helping Isaac was not a betrayal to the pack. I was helping a friend and I don't understand why you think that is so wrong."

"Hunters. You're working with the hunters. If you think that they'll spare your life because you betrayed us to them, you are wrong. They will hoist you up and cut your body and half, leaving it for the crows to find."

Derek threw himself at Stiles who dropped to the ground and rolled under his jeep, emerging from the other side and immediately running for the house where Alex stood, alerted by the sound of a fight, on the top of the stairs.

"Mom!" He screamed. "Derek's eating Stiles!"

"Dude, that's just wrong," Stiles managed before the weight of Derek drove him to the ground again. Derek out weight him but Stiles was faster and kept wiggling away from the older wolf's clawed grasp.

Seconds later he was caught from behind and dragged up and away from Derek. Catching a glimpse of Peter out of the corner of his eye, Stiles allowed his body to go lax in the powerful hold.

Patrick was struggling with Derek who looked as if he had lost all reason as he snapped and snarled at Stiles from the enclosure of his father's arms. It wasn't until Maria tapped him on the nose that he stopped struggling and stood stiffly in place.

"What is going on out here?"

"He has it! That bitch's necklace. He's working for them, those fucking Argents." The moment of calm was broken and Derek once again tried to reach Stiles tugging his father a couple of feet closer as he struggled against his hold. Stiles pressed deeper back into Peter, who let his hand trace slow circles on Stiles unmarked hip.

"I'm not working for anyone! And what did the Argents ever do to you? The necklace belongs to Allison. Scott's being helping her look for it and I just it today on my way to the car today. I was going to give it to him tomorrow." Looking down to where Peter was slipping the tip of his thumb inside his jeans Stiles added, "Wow, hey no bad touch Uncle Pedo." Peter's chuckle warmed his ear.

"Allison?" Maria stepped closer and tilted Stiles' chin up. "I imagine she's an Argent?"

"Yeah. She just moved into town last week. She's been dating Scott and he's apparently totally in love with her. Her mom gave her this necklace; apparently it used to belong to her aunt or something, some family heirloom thing. She's been frantic to get it back. I just found it today, I swear."

Maria turned to look at Patrick and Derek. "Well apparently we have another Argent in Beacon Hills. No matter what Chris' actions were in the past we will need to keep an eye on her. Something must have happened to bring his daughter back to him." Reaching out she pulled Derek from her husband's grasp and into her own tight embrace. "He's not one of them son. You can't let your hate for her drive a wedge between you and the rest of the world."

With a frustrated growl Derek pulled gently away. He pressed his head to his mother's shoulder briefly before turning and running off into the forest. Maria watched him go for a second, sadness evident in her features. "I'll follow him until he calms down." Patrick said heading off into the woods himself. Maria turned and frowned at Laura and Alex who stood gapping on the stairs. They took one look at her and darted back inside.

"Stiles, I don't know how much you know about Allison but the Argents are not new to Beacons Hills. You see there are people out there that know about us, about werewolves." Peter let Stiles go, his hand lingering just a tad too long on his hip, and strolled back to the house. "Your Scott's girlfriend comes from a hunter family, a group of people whose sole desire in life is to kill us all. You need to be cautious around her."

"Yes, ma'am." Stiles said quickly knowing there was more to the story than he was being told. "But…what happened that made Derek so angry?"

Maria hugged Stiles for a second before answering. "I wish I could tell you that story Stiles, but some secrets aren't mine to share. I can tell you this much though, in all my years of being a wolf I have only felt a true blood lust once, and it was because of an Argent. Now come on, dinner will be ready soon."

Eyes searching the forest for a trace of Derek, Stiles shook his head and gestured to his ripped and bloody clothing. "I better get home before my father. There is no way I can explain this." Taking Maria's nod as his permission to go, Stiles hopped in his jeep and headed straight for home the events of the night rolling through his brain.

The sun was just starting to set as he pulled into the drive way making sure he left room for his dad's cruiser. The house was dark and Stiles knew he probably had hours left before his dad came home. The thought of hunters lurking in the shadows made his skin flicker with tension and unease, but if these hunters were capable of making someone as loving as Maria want to kill, clearly something wasn't right. Not that there was any explanation for Derek's sudden appetite for fleet of Stiles. Walking up the path to the door, he found himself shying at shadows. "Stupid, fraidy-cat werewolf," he muttered at himself as he hurried up to the door.

He didn't bother turning on any lights, wolf eyes made it so he could see just fine and he took the stairs two at a time up to his room. His hand was on the knob when he heard it, the rhythmic thump of a heart beat coming from behind the door. Opening the door slowly he entered with caution thinking that Derek had come to have another 'talk'. His claws scraped along the frame as he searched the shadows for the intruder.

His desk lamp flicked on blinding him for just a second. When his eyes cleared, Isaac was sitting, pale and wide eyed, on his bed. "I...I didn't have any place else to go." Isaac said, his eyes flashing across stiles wolfy features. "I was hoping that I could hide out here until I figured things out." Isaac's eyes traveled downward to where Stiles' claws still rested against the door frame and swallowed loudly. "But if you don't think it's a good idea, I can leave."

"No," Stiles said letting the claws slip away. "You are more than welcome to hide here." Listening to Isaac's frantic heartbeat he added, "But I guess you have a couple of questions for me huh."

"No shit!"


End file.
